


Bronze freckles

by linnhe



Category: NCT (Band), SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Gaping, Anal Sex, Chastity Device, Cock Cages, Consensual, Consensual Non-Consent, Dom/sub, Dominance, Dumbification, F/M, Femdom, Feminization, Foot Fetish, Genital Piercing, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Masochism, Nipple Piercings, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Pegging, Prostate Massage, Prostitution, Restraints, Safeword Use, Sex Work, Slapping, Submission, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:29:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21526777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linnhe/pseuds/linnhe
Summary: Jung Yoonoh is an admired but feared figure in the office. She's strikingly tall for a woman, and often dyes her hair a copper-y red. Taeyong spends a lot of his day hoping she'll come out of her cubicle so he can catch another glimpse of her.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong, Lee Taemin/Lee Taeyong, Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 56
Kudos: 195





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Jaehyun is a woman in this, and Taeyong is the subbiest sub to ever sub. [I was picturing that look Jae had when they did those freckles on him for Behind the Poetic](https://youtu.be/8ww5L93juns) bc I lay awake over that look

Jung Yoonoh is an admired but feared figure in the office. She's strikingly tall for a woman, and often dyes her long hair a copper-y red. It swishes with each step as she walks around their office floor, on the days where she wears it in a ponytail. 

Taeyong spends a lot of his day hoping she'll come out of her cubicle so he can catch another glimpse of her. Her beauty is off-set by the coldness of her demeanour, her mouth usually set in a hard line, especially when she's talking to her co-workers. That severity she has, to his embarrassment, makes him feel warm all over.

Technically Taeyong is her boss, if their company's organogram is to be believed, but Yoonoh has never reported to him. Instead they both report to Taeyong's boss, Suh Youngho, on their individual projects. There's little overlap between their roles in the company. Taeyong doesn't know if he's happy or sad about that. It means their interactions are minimal, aside from the rare interproject meeting, and that he has no reason to approach her. But it also means he's safe from her scrutiny. She's too intimidating, he tends to struggle to get a word out when she's looking right at him.

So when Yoonoh sits down on the edge of his desk one day, he goes quite speechless. She's sitting with both her arms and legs crossed, observing him without a word, the light green contacts she loves to wear in the fall making her gaze appear even colder. This close up, he can see the fake freckles she applied today. They're a warm bronze, to match her hair. His mouth goes dry.

"It's been two years," she finally points out, "and frankly, I'm tired of feeling your eyes on me every time I do anything around here. I thought it was flattering at first. You're not bad to look at. But now I'm getting annoyed."

He stares up at her, opens his mouth to try and form a reply. No sound comes. He finds his head is devoid of all thought, except for one: he likes the perfume she's wearing today.

"Taeyong-ssi, are you listening? I'm saying: shit or get off the pot."

He closes his mouth and nods. "Yes, I... Would you. I mean, can I take you out on a date some time?" The words sound weird coming out of his mouth, like they're being said by another person.

She scoffs. "When's the last time you've read company policy. No dating. I will send you my address, and you can come over after ten. I have a late meeting tonight."

\--

It takes a while for pleasure to start building. His tongue has been tracing slow, firm circles over her clit for the last five minutes, and she can hear in his breathing that his jaw is beginning to ache. He pulls back for a second or two, swallowing heavily, his exhale hot against her.

Yoonoh bucks her sex towards him, her gaze lidded and demanding. Taeyong's eyes are inky black in the low light of her bedroom, and he keeps looking at her as he moulds his lips around her again.

She uses the back of her heel to guide his face flush to her, forcing him to break eye contact. He digs his fingers into her hips to keep her steady as he continues licking, and a small shudder goes through her lower body. It's starting to feel good, a tendril of pleasure settling in the depth of her cunt, weaving this way and that, chasing the pressure he's providing.

If only he was better at it. She needs consistent stimulation, and he keeps pulling away to swallow the spit building up in his mouth.

"Just keep going," she instructs, irritated. He's going to make her lose her orgasm.

He nods silently, doubling his efforts. For the next twenty minutes, there's barely any sounds, besides those of Taeyong's increasing struggle to keep going. She looks at him when he pulls away to swallow again, but thinks better of scolding him when she sees the slight redness of his nose. His eyes have gone wet with how much he's been straining to breathe while giving her his all, nose pushed firmly against her public bone. 

_It's cute_ , she thinks to herself, laying back and closing her eyes, her hand reaching out to gently card fingers through his hair. He moans when he's touched, the first time she's touched him since he arrived at her house, and she sighs happily at how it feels against her clit. Her pleasure's presence is more firm now, not as hard to hold onto.

"Hm, yeah. Starting to feel really good," she murmurs, bucking her hips slightly just to hear him moan again. The pleasure is hitting her in soft waves, and she squirms, trying to chase each one. She's thinking of the delicious nap she'll take after this, her back arching in anticipation of bone-deep, relaxing pleasure. 

That moment is getting closer rapidly now, building up inside of her, clumsily coaxed with every slide of his tongue.

She's quiet all the way through the final build-up, and the high. Only a stuttered breath gives it away, her brow furrowing as she's hit with a frustratingly mediocre orgasm. He took too long to get her there, she's become so sensitive that it's not pleasant anymore. But it'll do.

Taeyong sits back on his haunches, his breathing coming in ragged and hard as he looks down at her. He looks wrecked.

"Thanks," she says curtly, pulling her pyjama bottoms back on. It feels kind of slimey and uncomfortable between her legs now. He's still fully dressed, but moving to undo the top button of his shirt.

"No need for that. I'll see you at work tomorrow," Yoonoh yawns, rolling over onto her side so she can get comfortable.

"Oh," he says. It takes him another five seconds to realize she's being serious, and he slowly moves off the bed.

"Make sure you close my door on the way out," she adds, hugging her pillow. She's already half asleep by the time he's gathered his things, and smiles when she hears her bedroom door shut with a soft click. 

\--

Taeyong nearly jerks himself raw after that first encounter. He figures out one of the perfumes she wears by going into a store and asking for countless samples, the bottle filling him with shame as he carries it home in a beautiful square gift bag. 

He spritzes his wrist with it on the days where they don't have to go into the office, and breathes it in as he touches himself, coming to the thought of being treated as nothing but a warm mouth.

He now fully can't stop staring at her at work, standing near the water cooler with a dazed look in his eye as he watches her walk around.

Suh Youngho comes up behind him, placing a heavy hand on Taeyong's shoulder. He's an imposing presence, and Taeyong instinctively leans away from him.

"Give it up, Taeyong-ssi. She's impossible to crack, that one. Believe me, I've tried."

Taeyong can only stare at him. Was their boss talking about sleeping with her?

"She just doesn't enjoy socializing. We can't all be the same, huh?" After another friendly pat to his shoulder, Youngho walks off.

\--

He's breathing hard, struggling to keep his ass up as she works her fingers into him. There's a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, his brows furrowing. She smiles when he yelps in pain at a particularly sharp thrust, and hides his face in her pillow.

"Don't get your gross sweat all over my pillow, Taeyong-ah," she says gently, while forcing her fingers deeper into him.

"I'm sorry," he pants, but doesn't actually move his face. He looks like he can't do anything besides remain where he is, immobilized by how roughly she's treating him.

It's what he asked for, what he's been asking for. He'd walked into her cubicle after their first tryst, weeks after, looking delicious in a loosely fitted work shirt, and had quietly begged her for another invitation to her place. They'd met for coffee and had outlined what they'd be okay with ahead of time. And Yoonoh had expressly told him to get better at giving head, if he wanted another shot at it.

There's been several encounters since. Taeyong has grown comfortable in his role, and vocal and honest. He's quickly become one of Yoonoh's favourite submissives for that reason, although she would never tell him that.

She spreads his ass cheeks with both hands, leans in and spits on him. It pools in the dip of his hole for a brief moment, until she pushes it in with her thumb. The action draws a shudder-y moan out of Taeyong.

"You've really never been fucked before?" she asks casually, grabbing the lube so she can add more, and get him ready for the final part of their session. She already knows the answer, just enjoys flustering him by making him answer intimate questions. 

"I've fingered myself before," he breathes out, "I was trying to come from my prostate."

Today was a special day; Taeyong had convinced her to take his virginity. Yoonoh had resisted the idea at first. That kind of thing was generally a little too romantic for her tastes. But he'd begged and begged, swore up and down that he had no feelings for her, and finally she'd decided to just get it over with. She enjoyed pegging, it would be fun if it could become a regular activity with Taeyong.

"Hmm... it's hard, isn't it?" she comments, while coating his hole and her strap-on in lube. It's one of those models that have a ball-end that sit inside, and she sighs happily at the sensation of it moving inside of her, pushing into her walls.

"Yeah. I couldn't do it," he admits.

"The trick is to stop jacking off. Push your body to a deprivation limit and topple over it by only stimulating your ass." She spreads his ass cheeks again, spitting on him once more just because his reactions are fun. It draws another moan from him.

"You're so easy," she observes. The tips of his ears go red, and she rubs a reassuring hand over his lower back. "That's a good thing."

She's guides the tip of her strap-on against his hole, watching intently as it resists the intrusion, puckering and contracting.

She'd asked him ahead of time what size he wanted, and he'd insisted on a size that she felt was most true to herself. A toy that would give her the most pleasure. Which, regretfully for Taeyong, is one of the bigger and less flexible pieces she owns. It will be tough to take for a beginner.

He cries out softly when she pushes forward and manages to breach him, his hands clawing into her pillow.

"Too big?" she asks, pausing for a moment.

He shakes his head wordlessly. She tilts her hips and slowly presses in deeper, allowing the lube to do most of the work for her. Taeyong is groaning in pain throughout, which excites her more than the act itself. He's always so willing underneath her, ready to take on anything she throws his way.

When she's settled in all the way, she starts rubbing slow circles into Taeyong's lower back.

"I'm going to go slow at first, but I think this is going to hurt no matter what. You're not as loose as I anticipated. Didn't you say you like to finger yourself?"

Taeyong swallows heavily, his shoulder blades working underneath his skin as he tries to get comfortable. But there is no getting comfortable, no way to get away from the pain of being spread open too much, too quickly. "I stopped... after we started doing this," he says thickly. He sounds miserable. Yoonoh thinks to herself that she's never been more attracted to him than in this instant.

"Only want me to touch you there? Is that it?"

"Yes," Taeyong says softly, his ears now fully red.

Yoonoh drags out the toy slowly, watching as Taeyong's hole clings to it, and then pushes back in at an equally languid pace. His breathing has become erratic in response.

"There. You're not a virgin anymore, Taeyong-ssi~" Yoonoh announces, squeezing his ass cheeks. "You gave it up to the first person who wanted to sleep with you. Isn't that a little sad? Shouldn't it have been more special?" She punctuates her questions with another thrust.

Taeyong grunts in response, curving his back and widening the distance between his knees a little.

"Only sluts behave like this. I wish you could see yourself right now."

Taeyong's hand scrambles over her nightstand, and she's briefly confused when he holds out his phone to her. Then she laughs, eyebrows shooting up.

"Capture it? Hah. Alright."

She unlocks his phone. One of his first submissive acts was to give her full access to it. She usually just ignores the thing - the nitty-gritty of people's lives becomes boring fast - but right now she's revelling in the power. She could take a picture and send it to anyone in his contact list. She won't, not without his permission, but the thought excites her all the same.

It takes a long time for Yoonoh to get off from fucking Taeyong, and she dutifully films the whole thing, since she could sense it would become a prized possession for Taeyong. The toy provides irregular stimulation to her g-spot, making it frustratingly hard to come from it. It provides just enough stimulation to make it feel increasingly good, but not hard and fast enough to get her there all the way, unless she's railing the person underneath her.

Which she's doing now, having worked herself up into chasing release. Taeyong is sobbing underneath her, crying out every time she pushes in. His hands are stretched out behind him, brushing her hips, appearing as if he's trying to get her to ease up on him. But he's not actually trying to get away, doesn't say the safe word, doesn't form the back-up signal with his hands. 

So she ignores him, and keeps her focus with her own orgasm. He wants to be hurt like this. She's never known him this eager for it, and she admires his tenacity. The phone slips from her hand when she starts coming, and she bites back a scream over how intensely it hits her, causing her legs to cramp up as the pleasure furiously uncoils in her abdomen.

"Fuck," she curses softly when the last wave of pleasure has rolled through her, letting herself fall forward on top of Taeyong. He collapses with her. It takes her a minute to come back to herself, pushing her sweat-soaked hair away from her forehead once she starts feeling like a person again. 

Taeyong is limp underneath her, a wet-sounding sniffle escaping him every few seconds. She grabs his jaw and turns his face towards her, taking in his state. His face is wet with tears, and there's a crease where the fabric of the pillow had dug into his cheek. Both his eyes and nose are red. He's never looked more wrecked.

"Beautiful," Yoonoh compliments him, tracing a thumb over his wet cheek. He smiles shakily through his tears.

Then she rolls away from him unceremoniously, laughing at the anguished gasp Taeyong produces when the toy pops out of him. She looks down at his hole, spreading him to get a better idea of the damage she did. 

It looks just as red and abused as his face, the rim puffy. "Do you want a picture of this?" she asks, rubbing her fingers over the swollen mess that was once Taeyong's cute, inconspicuous opening. He's gasping in pain, increasingly so when she pushes a finger into him.

"Yes," he finally manages, his voice hoarse to a point where she barely recognises it as his.

She removes her strap-on and then gets him back on hands and knees, stopping the video recording on his phone so she can take some pictures. She takes a picture of just his hole, and then a couple of her pushing the toy back inside, and of the small gape he has for a few beats whenever she pulls it out.

"I don't think I've ever seen something quite this pretty," she comments distantly. She's kind of over this whole thing by now, just wants a nice long bath or maybe a glass of an expensive chilled white. There's a bottle in her fridge, calling out to her. 

But she can still appreciate the beauty of someone allowing their body to be used to this point.

After a few minutes, Taeyong weakly makes the gesture at her to stop, and she pulls away from him.

"After-care?" she asks him, tracing the shell of his ear with a fingertip. He shakes his head, signifying he wants to be left alone for a bit.

"Okay. Let me know when to call a cab... I'll send you home with some nitroglycerin cream, just in case." She gets up, standing naked besides the bed, her tone conversational as she ties her hair up into a ponytail. "Don't eat big meals for a while, Taeyong-ssi. Your asshole will need a break after all this." 

He nods to show he's heard her, and then curls up tightly, arms clasped over his knees. She leaves him like that, a small figure in the centre of her bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two are so fun to write ;_; Hope you enjoy their newest adventure lol

**14:11, from Taeyongg~**  
_Yoonoh-ssi, I was wondering. That video we made last week. Could I get permission to post it online?_

**16:06, from Jung Yoonoh**  
_If you take out anything that could identify me, then yes, you have my permission._  
**16:08**  
_Now tell me why you want to post it online._  
**16:22**  
_Reply faster. I can see you agonising over it in the break room._

**16:24, from Taeyongg~** _  
I want people to see._

**19:01, from Jung Yoonoh**  
_Haha, so slutty. When you post it, can you monetize it somehow? Then you won't just be a slut, you'll also be a whore._  
**19:03**  
_How is your asshole doing? Healed up yet?_

**19:04, from Taeyongg~** _  
Still hurts._

**22:52, from Jung Yoonoh** _  
Come over. I'll make you feel better._

**22:57, from Taeyongg~** _  
Omw_

\--

When Taeyong arrives, there's money waiting for him on the living room table. Yoonoh sits down at the table, drawing her housecoat tighter around herself. She looks tipsy, her cheeks flushed and her eyes lidded. The partially empty bottle of wine on the table supports this theory.

"I was just wondering," she says a little unevenly, the usual clarity missing from her speech, "what you'd be willing to do for this amount."

She pushes the bills closer towards him. He takes a seat next to her, takes the money and counts it out. It's enough to cover a month's rent, if you live in a bottom rung place. Which, he does. Because what's the point in wasting half a salary on rent when their nation's work culture practically requires them to live at the office? But Yoonoh appears to live by a different motto; her place looks expensive.

"Anything you'd like, Yoonoh-ssi," he says.

She leans forward and takes the bills from his hand, giving him back about half.

"And for this amount?"

He swallows heavily. She's trying to find out his worth, a representation of it in a hard number. His lowest value. It's an unfair game, because he'd do almost anything for free, if she was the one asking.

He gives her back the majority of the money, until there's barely enough to buy a cheap toaster. "I'll give head for this much."

She laughs, shaking her head. Her hair is glinting copper underneath the warm light of her overhead lamp. It's a beautiful designer thing, just like most items in Yoonoh's apartment. "The way you give head, you should be paying me. No, I'd like to buy something else from you. Access." She pours herself a fresh glass, and his nose is hit with the wine's slightly acidic aroma.

"Access to what?" he asks, although he's already understood her. He just wants to hear her say it.

"To you. All of you. Your holes, mainly, I suppose." She's swirling the wine in her glass, a hypnotic undulation of liquid. But her eyes are on him now, unflinching. "Consent can be retracted at any point, of course."

He shivers underneath the fierceness of her gaze. It feels debasing, accepting money in exchange for his body. Which is undoubtedly the goal.

He takes a couple more bills - as if that gesture will protect his dignity - and fans them out in between them. "This is my price. But I do have one additional request... I'd like to sell you my consent, too."

She laughs, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Hard pass. Doing away with the safety system is a recipe for disaster, unless our trust is absolute. And I don't trust you yet. Maybe you're trying to die on me, who knows."

He taps his finger on the surface of her table, thinking. She lets him, taking unhurried sips from her glass as she studies his expression. "What could you even do to me that could potentially cost me my life?"

She laughs again. It's a hard laugh, no joy in it. Whatever fuzzying effect the wine had on her, it's dissipating. "That's a level of information a newbie like you isn't privy to. So. My deal, or no deal. What do you say?"

"Are any of the others newbies like me?" He knows he's prying. He can't help himself; he wants to know more about her, about her life. Who entertains her when she isn't calling on him?

"Taeyong-ah, don't ask questions like you're my boyfriend. You can go and not come back if this is what you're going to act like." Her voice has become cool. She'd been indulging him, and he can tell he's reaching the end of her patience.

"I don't want to be your boyfriend. I just wonder. Your life seems, you know? Fun."

"It is. And does not include you, unless you've been invited. So either accept my payment, or leave." She rolls her shoulders and pulls her hair back, into a particularly high ponytail today.

If he hadn't pushed like this, he doubts she'd have given him an ultimatum. He could've gotten away with acting cute about it, and have remained on her roster. But now he's not so sure he'll ever be contacted again, if he rejects this game.

As soon as he's picked up the money, she pulls her arm back and slaps him across the face, _hard_. "For your insolence," she explains. Taeyong has grabbed at his cheek instinctively, his eyes wide as he looks at her. There's no malice in her expression; it was a calculated punishment, not one based in anger. In that moment, he begins to understand what she meant by the value of trust in a relationship like this one.

"Do you need another?" she asks, both her expression and voice neutral. She is genuinely asking him, he realizes. He thinks about it, letting go of his cheek as he nods.

"How many more do you think will do the trick? I can tell the lesson hasn't quite sunk in yet."

He holds up three fingers, and then braces himself. She hits him on the same side of his face all three times. It feels measured and yet explicitly violent, and it hurts more than he would have anticipated. He's been hit before, when fighting as a boy in the school playground, but it was never this deliberate.

Tears have sprung to his eyes by the time she's done, his shoulders slumping. He's gone rock hard in his slacks. The pain in his ass, a remnant from the abuse Yoonoh had inflicted on it, feels more pronounced too.

"Now undress and go get on the bed. Hands and knees, facing the headboard," she instructs, her head leaned in her hand. She says it like she has no doubt he'll follow through. And why wouldn't he. She has bought him, after all.

It takes a while for her to join him in the bedroom. By the sound of her step, he can tell she's put on heels. It's her preferred outfit for when they do this; heels and a ponytail, and nothing else. He peeks at her from in between his legs, groaning quietly when he sees it's the pair with the highest arch. She has a small collection of shoes that are exclusive to her bedroom, and these are his favourite. She's a little taller than him to begin with, but towers over him in that pair.

"I was wondering, how much of your time have I bought?"

Taeyong swallows, and tries to think. Who knows? He wants her as long as she'll have him, but doesn't want to seem too greedy either. "A night?"

"Are you trying to sleep over? I promise you, you won't be comfortable." She crawls onto the bed behind him, and he hisses when two cool hands spread him apart, his asshole stinging. The roughness of how he lost his virginity has left him with a small anal fissure, and he's been using the cream she provided, but it still stings like a bitch at the slightest bit of manipulation. Using the bathroom has been hell. She's lightly spreading his asshole now, inspecting it. "Hm. Swelling has gone down, not too much damage. I'm glad. How much does it hurt?"

"More than I like," he admits. Enough for him to start growing soft, now.

"Yeah, it tends to be like that. Assholes are a lot more fun when they're stretched gradually. We'll get there, in time. For now, I'm just going to apply treatment."

He's tensed up until her fingers come back and begin gently applying ointment. Nothing else happens. She has offered him care every time she's been rough with him, and he's always rejected it, fearing the offer hadn't been genuine. He didn't want to be a burden to her, and cause her to lose interest. But now he understands he's been stupid all along. Yoonoh didn't offer anything unless she planned to follow through on it.

"There. Now get on your back for me."

He turns around in time to see her take off and discard a pair of surgical gloves. She smiles at him. "There's something I've been meaning to try on you, but I keep getting distracted by those pretty holes of yours." She picks up something from the mattress and shows it to him. It's plastic, and see-through. "It's a dick cage. Your dick goes inside of it, and then I lock it with a padlock."

Taeyong has never seen or heard of anything like it, but instantly, he understands its use. Denial of access, deprivation. It's enough to stir up his dick again, growing longer against his stomach.

"I won't be able to fit you into it if you're hard. It's going to be a snug fit as it is," Yoonoh explains. "How would you like me to go about keeping you flaccid, at least long enough to put this on you? Hurt you enough, or let you come first."

Taeyong bites his bottom lip, growing even harder at the suggestion. She has never bothered with his orgasm before, she's never actually touched his dick. He has yet to come in her presence. What would she do to him?

"Come first?"

She cocks her head. "Curious that you'd think you deserve to, after your little stunt earlier." She sighs. "But, fine. Go ahead."

He blinks. "How?"

"However you want to. Just make it fast, will you? This part tends to bore me." She sits back, legs folded the side, and Taeyong understands she's not going to do anything besides watch him. It already feels like a lot of pressure.

He tries his hardest, focused on her as he sits back and starts tugging at his erection. She looks stunning, even if she also looks thoroughly disinterested. But he can't do it. He feels too silly, just laying here, jerking off to an unattainable woman like he's a teenager. Eventually, he feels himself slowly wilting in his hand, and her eyes glint at the sight.

"Cute," she comments, and then crawls closer. "Let's try my way now. I'd let you put it on yourself, but it's a little tricky the first time... and I don't want you to get pinched anywhere. This thing can leave a nasty bruise." He knows what she's going to do before she does it, because she puts on another pair of gloves, but it doesn't make it hurt less. He gasps and squirms when she pushes her fingers into him, three at a time. The slipperiness and sedation of the ointment helps mute some of the pain, but it still stings very bad, and it's not a happy kind of pain. His cock shrivels up completely in response, becoming an embarrassing shrimp in between his legs.

"Good boy," Yoonoh praises him, and he whines in response. She's never called him that before, and he knows he's going to get off to it later. But right now he feels nothing but queasy with pain.

The cage goes on smoothly after that, Yoonoh's movements practised. There's a ring that fits behind his balls, and the length of his dick is stuffed inside a curved tube, cockhead fit snugly against a slit that will allow him to pee. She gingerly joins the two parts and uses the lock to secure it all in place. She beams at him when she's done, which makes it worth it in an instant.

"There. Ah, Taeyong-ah! Look how pretty you look!" she exclaims, her fingers gently carressing the hard plastic. He can't feel her touch, but it's the most enthused praise he's received from her so far, and his dick stirs treacherously. _Now_ it was willing to cooperate?

The pressure is immediate, and he squirms in discomfort, rolling onto his side. He pushes a hand in between his thighs, testing the new sensation. The plastic is smooth, doesn't pinch anywhere. In itself, it doesn't feel bad. But it's a deeply foreign feeling, not being able to touch any part of his dick.

"You'll get used to it eventually," Yoonoh says reassuringly, following the nubs of his spine with a gloved hand. How long was she planning on leaving him locked in here? He starts to panic a little bit, but then realizes she'll take it off if he asks her. Immediately, his panic leaves him, and he sighs and lets himself sink into the mattress. It's almost relaxing, lying like this, despite the plastic digging into his thighs.

Yoonoh yawns openly, letting her head hang back. "Fuck, I'm tired all of a sudden... it's the wine. I shouldn't drink on an empty stomach."

"Would you like me to go home?" Taeyong asks. He wonders if she'll let him leave with the cage still on. Then he wonders if he'll be able to walk with it.

"Hmm... no? You can stay," she says absent-mindedly, while stripping off her gloves again. "Unless you object to sleeping on the floor."

He flushes, and shakes his head. "I don't object."

Yoonoh steps off the bed, kicking off her heels and then bending over to pull out something from underneath the bed. At first Taeyong thinks it's a folded futon, but when it's pulled all the way out, it sinks in. It's a dog bed, a sizeable one, but still clearly meant for an actual dog.

She looks up at him, eyebrows raising when she realizes he's not moving. He scrambles to join her at the foot of the bed. His cock cage feels clunky and tugs at him in a weird way, and he slows his movements a little.

She's patting the bed, and he sits down on it. He looks up at her, feeling a little dizzy over the overtness of the power imbalance. How did she get him here? Not so long ago, all he was doing was watch her walk past his cubicle.

"So obedient," she praises him, hand coming down to pet the cheek she'd struck before. It's unpleasant, but he doesn't flinch. "So pretty."

Then she yawns again, and turns away from him without another look, as if she's already forgotten him entirely. He sleeps poorly that night, the bed too small in every direction no matter how tightly he curls up on it, and the floor heating unpleasantly warm. But there's a calmness in his chest that he's never felt before.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sick as a dog and these two r all that's keeping me alive rn. 
> 
> Thank u all for the kudos n comments!! They make me happy

Taeyong has homework after that night. Yoonoh sends him home with the cage, without the padlock, and wires him the fee they've agreed on whenever she wants him to go to bed while wearing it. It's clear she likes it, because he gets paid several times a week.

He gets good at putting it on quickly, before he can get hard over the idea. He sends her pictures of himself wearing it, pyjama bottoms pushed down just far enough to reveal it, and she sends him relentless praise in return. They spend a month like this. He doesn't think he's ever been happier.

**23:47 from Jung Yoonoh**  
_You're worth every cent I'm spending_  
**23:48**  
_I like your pyjamas, they're all so cute, where are you even finding them. Wear the one with the star pattern again next time._

**23:50 from Taeyongg~**  
_You like them better than if I were naked?_

**00:17 from Jung Yoonoh**  
_Yeah. Picturing you in your bed, in those comfy pyjamas, that thing invisible to a casual observer. Makes me want to fuck you._

It takes him a while to get used to the sensation of the cage. The first few nights he wakes up a couple of times, feeling sweaty and trapped, itching to take it off. But he doesn't, because he won't learn unless he sticks with it. Peeing with it also takes some getting used to, and he has two embarrassing accidents where he just can't seem to make it work and gets pee all over his toilet seat and legs.

Yoonoh instructs him to pee sitting down from now on, and to pay more attention when lining up his own slit with the one in the plastic. She also tells him the toy is dishwasher safe.

He spends the rest of his limited time at home learning to edit the video Yoonoh filmed of him. It's forty minutes of footage, mostly him crying and desperately begging for her to stop. He can't get through much of it without growing hard, and he learns not to try and edit on evenings where he's caged.

His favourite part is the end, when Yoonoh drops the phone and she's briefly visible, before she shifts and a bit of blanket pulls her out of focus. The clipped sounds she made when she came, he replays them over and over. That part won't make it into the final result. Not because he thinks it's enough to identify her, he just wants to keep it to himself. It's the precious reward he got for putting his body through hell.

He spends a final Sunday morning editing it down to a ten minute video, with a slideshow of the pictures she took at the end, and titles it "my Dom takes my virginity; gaping, painal", sending her the link once it's up on the porn site he picked. It's one that encourages amateur content and a tipping culture, and he wonders if anyone will actually pay money for his scene.

There's no reply for hours, which is typical for Yoonoh, but he was hoping for a bigger response to his first piece of sex work. When he's become too antsy to just stay in his apartment and wait, he goes down to the parking garage below his building to sit in his car for a bit.

And then he drives it over to her building in the quiet Gangnam neighbourhood she lives in, slowly creeping past the front door and parking a few buildings down.

 _This is crazy,_ he thinks to himself, nervously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, his heart shooting up into his throat when he sees it's from Yoonoh. What if she saw him out front? What if it ruins everything? How could he be so stupid?

**12:12 from Jung Yoonoh**  
_Your dom? Ha, cute. Don't call me that though._

**12:13 from Taeyongg~**  
_Then what should I call you? Mistress?_

**12:17 from Jung Yoonoh**  
_No, none of that. Makes me cringe. Just use my name. I don't like too many frills._

He chews his thumb, frowning at the screen. _Fuck it_ , he thinks.

**12:18 from Taeyongg~**  
_I really like that about you._  
**12:18**  
_Can I come over? I'm nearby_

**12:31 from Jung Yoonoh**  
_You like everything about me, so it's not special. And no, you can't. Don't invite yourself._

He starts the car back up and drives back home, his stomach feeling heavy. That was so inappropriate. Why did he do that? Just show up at her place? He knows why, but why.

When she texts him again hours later, he feels like he might cry a little bit out of sheer relief.

**17:43 from Jung Yoonoh**  
_I've changed my mind. Come over at 9 and bring me a nice bottle of wine, some bubble bath, bananas, edible massage oil, and whatever else you can think of. And please tell me you've been practising how to give head._

**17:45 from Taeyongg~**  
_I'm sorry, I don't have anyone to practice on. I've looked up some tutorials?_

**17:50 from Jung Yoonoh**  
_Jesus Christ, man. JUST FIND SOMEONE. How hard could it be, you're ugly nor stupid. Do I have to hold your hand through all of this?_

It's the first time she's ever raised her voice at him, and even though it's just through text, his hands are shaking when he forms his reply.

**17:54 from Taeyongg~**  
_I'm sorry, Yoonoh-ssi. I did;consider it but I only want to be with you. I'll be there at 9?_

**18:03 from Jung Yoonoh**  
_It's gross when you talk like that._  
**18:04**  
_Don't be late._

\--

He won't hear it from her, but it's nice to have Taeyong's energy back in her apartment. He's so obedient, so eager to please. It highlights his beauty in ways she hadn't anticipated; his gaze captivating when it goes dark with desire, his sounds thrilling when he makes no effort to hide his neediness.

He runs her a bath, overflowing with bubbles. She likes the scent he's picked out for her, not too flower-y. There's chocolate-dipped strawberries next to the tub - she likes neither of those foods, but appreciates the gesture nonetheless - and a glass of a wine she's had in her fridge in the past.

He pays attention. She likes that, too.

When she's lying back in her tub, sighing as she feels the day's worries slipping from her mind and her muscles, he lifts one of her feet out of the water and gives her a foot rub. He's taking his time with it, and she lets her head fall back and groans out her pleasure, abandoning all pretense. Feet are her weakness, and for that reason, rarely made a part of her sessions. But it's nice how he's taking the lead, allowing her to just be, for once.

He must have picked up on what this is doing to her, because at some point, he lifts her foot closer to his face and sucks her big toe into his mouth. She goes silent, eyes wide. Her nipples have gone hard underneath the surface of the water, her clit throbbing to life. He looks attractive like this; hollowing out his cheeks, his tongue pushing against the pad of her toe. She lets it go on for far too long, until she's hazy with it.

"Rinse me off," she says brusquely, drawing her foot from his grasp and standing up in the tub on wobbly legs. When the bubbles that were still clinging to her are gone, she steps out of the tub and physically drags him to her bedroom. His expression is almost comical, caught halfway between surprise and lust.

Yoonoh gets onto the bed first, on her back, propping herself up on her elbows. She's still wet all over, her sheets becoming damp as they absorb the moisture from her skin. She's watching Taeyong intently, waiting for his next move. She's curious to find out what he'll decide on.

"Go ahead," she says.

He simply watches her for a few beats, looking a little ruffled and a lot overwhelmed. He's wearing office clothes, which is strange to her. Does he not own casual outfits? The sleeves of his white shirt are pushed up to his elbows, the front wet with bath water. Usually their dynamics revolve around her guiding him at every step, and it's clear he doesn't know what to do with no input. She'd feel bad for him, except she's too horny to care.

He ends up going for her feet again, and she moans happily, letting herself fall back against the mattress. He licks and sucks at her toes with renewed vigour, his hand tracing over her shin and the hair that grows there. She does shave her legs sometimes, because she enjoys the smooth feeling of it, but hadn't bothered lately. It doesn't seem to phase him.

"You're so good," she breathes out, her hand tracing down over her stomach, finding her cunt. She's wet there too, not entirely from the bath. Taeyong stays quiet, focused, and she starts rubbing circles over her clit. "Always so good for me."

Every one of her toes receives his languid attention, and it gets her there embarrassingly easy. She pulls her foot from his grasp as she comes, pulling her legs up to her chest as she gasps her way through the intensity of her orgasm. She feels a gush of liquid leaving her, and another wave of embarrassment hits her. It's been years since she last squirted, she's usually too tightly wound to let go in that way. She does not feel comfortable with Taeyong seeing, with being this open around him.

He doesn't seem to pick up on her discomfort, or is ignoring it, because he's crawling towards her and spreading her legs with force. She tries to shove at him, but he's faster, his mouth finding her cunt. His hands are harsh on her thighs, and she stops fighting him, gasping with every lick and kiss he places on her.

It's even better the second time around, her body already in the mood, and her mind empty. She's not thinking about who she is, or who he is. Only that he feels stupidly good - his mouth, his hands - and that she wants more of both. She comes easily, shivering as it hits her.

"Oh God," she moans out, and is shocked at the sound of her own voice. She sounds the way Taeyong usually does. A nervous kind of energy is building up throughout her body. It's too much and not enough all at once.

He looks up at her and something in her chest tightens over the look he's giving her. The whole lower half of his face is wet with her release, and she finds she wants nothing more than to lick it clean.

"Come here," she demands, holding out an arm. She lets out a sigh of satisfaction when she's pressed deeper into the mattress under his weight, grabbing at his face and licking his lips. It's not kissing, it's not sexy, but he seems into it all the same. She's unbuttoning his shirt as his hips are rutting into her, and she realizes he's not caged today.

_I should stop this, now. I'm going to regret it in the morning. I always do._

"Fuck me," she whispers into his mouth.

She expected him to be shy, to falter, maybe even refuse. But instead he kisses her so hard that it'll inevitably leave her bruised tomorrow, his hand reaching down in between them to open up his fly and pull himself out of his underwear.

She moves her legs up and locks them around his waist, and catches him looking into her eyes. The room is quiet, apart from the sound of their hard breathing.

Yoonoh squirms when she feels the head of his cock sliding against her, pushing her folds apart. She wants it so bad she feels she might lose her mind if he doesn't push in, but his gaze is burning into her. When he does push in, she bares his shoulder and bites him as hard as she can, the only way to keep her noises in. Because he feels amazing, the fullness of her cunt causing her to tingle all over. But hasn't she already embarrassed herself enough for him? They aren't involved, so where did he get off giving her a look like that.

Taeyong fucks her roughly, forehead pressed to her shoulder. He doesn't last very long but she still comes again, his pubic bone hitting her clit just right. She bites him again and again in retaliation, aiming to hurt, and pushes him off as soon as he comes, kicking him for good measure when he tries to come back to her. He hisses when the kick connects to his hip, rubbing at it.

"Go home, Taeyong-ssi," she bites out, feeling furious. With him, with herself, who knows. 

It takes him a few seconds to understand she's being serious. When it dawns on him, his eyes go shuttered. He tucks himself back into his slacks and leaves her apartment without another word, clothes a mess and expression unreadable.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guys see that Entertainment Tonight interview where Johnny says "AND I'M JOHNNY" because I can't stop thinking about it. WHY DID HE SAY IT LIKE THAT. Anyways he's in this chapter.
> 
> Also, thank you for reading, and thank you for the ♥️'s and comments. They make me happy and I love all of you ok

**10:06, from Jung Yoonoh**  
_I was just informed, I've been promoted. Suh Youngho-ssi is leaving the company for a better offer and I was offered his position. I accepted._

She's standing in a corner of their office, her long legs crossed, hip leaned against the panelling next to Youngho's office door. Youngho would be working with them for a few more weeks, mainly handling knowledge transfer, but he decided to move into one of the flexible office spaces during the transition. To help him get into the mindset of leaving, he'd explained. So this was her office, now. Office organisation workers were clearing out the space as she waited; Youngho's desk seemed to have been the recent victim of a bomb going off, so they'd be at it a while longer.

It's not why she's been standing there. Her things have already been packed up, a quick job since she kept a highly organised desk, and she could be spending this time anywhere else in the office. She's observing Taeyong, only the top of his head visible over the half-walls of his cubicle. It's been four days since she kicked him out of her bed, four days since they last spoke. She's been waiting for him to make the first move, wanting to grant him that courtesy. But maybe he's also been waiting. Either way, he needed to be told of her promotion.

**10:13, from Jung Yoonoh**  
_This means you will be reporting directly to me from here on out._

She can see him lean over to where he keeps his phone - always neatly placed on the far right-hand side of his desk - every time she shoots off a message. But for the first time since they exchanged their Kakao IDs, his response is not immediate. She didn't realize how used she'd gotten to that habit of his.

She's busy doing something entirely different, no longer thinking of Taeyong as she distractedly labels paperwork in her newly cleared office, by the time he replies. She frowns as she reads his message, feeling caught off guard.

**15:15, from Taeyongg~**  
_Congratulations, Jung Yoonoh-ssi. I'll work hard._

She exhales heavily, leaning back in the office's black leather chair and staring up at the ceiling. He really wasn't going to make this easy on her. And to be fair, he didn't have to, she'd been the one out of line. She let it get murky, blurred the lines... got them into this mess.

 _Really shitty dom behaviour_ , she thinks. Her stomach twists as she recalls the way he'd looked at her when she told him to get lost.

She was bad at apologies, used to speaking her mind and leaving the responsibility of soothing hurt feelings to others. That was her preferred leadership style, and her preferred domination style, too. It was efficient, but it had its limits. It should never bleed into cruelty.

As soon as her decision is made, she gets up and walks over to Taeyong's cubicle with swift steps, her heels muffled by the wall-to-wall carpeting.

"Taeyong-ssi."

He goes stiff all over, and she realizes he didn't see her coming. That rarely happens, because he's usually on the lookout for her.

Yet his expression is empty when he looks up at her. His gaze, which she's witnessed sparkling with eagerness a hundred times, is listless.

"Yes?" he asks politely, rolling away from his desk just enough so his body is facing towards her. So formal, she thinks. She usually uses formality to distance herself. Is that why he's doing it?

"I owe you an apology," she says plainly, her manicured hand coming to a rest on top of the wall of his cubicle. "I'm sorry for how I behaved. You did nothing to deserve it."

There's a blip of something - anger? sadness? - but he schools his expression back into neutral before she can get a good read on him.

"Okay. Thank you," he says. She waits a couple more moments, but the silence continues. Her nails briefly dig into the plastic material of the wall. She's never known him this curt, this composed, and it's starting to become a little unnerving, only because it's unlike him. She thought she had Taeyong figured out on day one. This is new behaviour.

 _My fault_ , she thinks. _I pushed it too far._

"Well, that settles it then," she states airily. If he didn't want to be vulnerable with her, there was no point in forcing it. "Please send me an overview of your current projects and your role in them, and I'll schedule a meeting so we can work out where my support is needed. Youngho-ssi already explained you're self-reliant, so I imagine my input will be minimal. But I'm open to feedback. I also saw your request for a new docking station, I'll approve it as soon as the new access roles have been transferred to me."

He nods, and then turns back to his laptop. She feels a brief urge to slam it shut, force him to grant her the decency of a reply, but returns to her office instead.

It's a beautiful corner space, much nicer than the dinky cubicles she'd been trapped in up until now, and she lets herself be enveloped in the comfort of its large windows as she gets to work.

It's much later than she realized, the sky outside now a deep evening blue, when her office door is slammed open. Youngho walks in with his eyes glued to his phone, and she clears her throat.

He looks at her in confusion for a second, and then laughs. It's boisterous, especially after the hours she's spent in silence. "Fuck, sorry, force of habit. Forgot this isn't my office anymore."

She stands up, feeling the ache of having been engrossed in her laptop for too long. Her back and shoulders are stiff, and she stretches them out slowly, trying to soothe her muscles.

"It's okay, I needed a distraction anyways... lost track of time."

He hums. "Now that you're going to be the boss, you should mind when you leave. Everyone is still out there. Granted, it's probably because of me. But don't go around pulling midnighters after I leave, hm?"

Yoonoh sucks her teeth as she walks past him, looking out into the main office space. Almost everyone is still there, except the ones who didn't give a damn about being promoted.

"Aish, just tell them to go home! I won't be finished for hours," she says, turning back to him.

"Will do," Youngho says with a small smirk. But he doesn't move, and she can feel his eyes wandering down her body.

It had been one time, when she first began working here, after a particularly drunk office event. Youngho had suggested they share a cab home, and when they learned there was no point as they lived in opposing districts, they had shared a cab to his place instead.

She'd regretted it ever since, because while she had no moral issue with sleeping her way up the career ladder, she didn't want Youngho to think that's what their one night stand had meant. He didn't rank high enough, she already knew then getting his job was simply inevitable. At least the sex had been pleasant.

"I still think about it," he says in a low voice, and she rolls her eyes in response.

"Then why haven't you done anything about it? I've been here all along," she points out, as she shuts her door. His eyes bug out a little in response, and there's a flash of regret in his expression.

"I assumed you didn't want a repeat. We were very drunk, and you were cold the following morning."

Yoonoh shrugs. "I'm always cold." She uses her chin to gesture at the office floor behind the door. "Tell them to leave, make sure they actually do, and then come back."

It takes Youngho half an hour to clear out the office, because even with the boss' blessing, no one wanted to seem too eager to head home. Yoonoh works while she waits, her thoughts far away, back on the evening she had spent with Youngho. How vanilla had they been? It's hard to recall, she only remembers that she didn't hate it. She's not sure what he's expecting, but she's in no mood to be vanilla tonight.

\--

Taeyong is sitting in the office bathroom. He's been sitting here for a while, to the point where it's kind of embarrassing. He should go back out, but he can't bring himself to.

Youngho had sent them home, which was highly unusual. Taeyong was nowhere near finished and also just not in the mood to head back to his studio, the place too small for his current stormy mood. (Lately he's been thinking Yoonoh has a point, living somewhere with actual room to live, to breathe. He should contact a real-estate agent.)

Also, Youngho isn't his boss anymore.

So he just disconnects his laptop from its docking station and sits down underneath his desk, continuing his work. It's not the first time he's worked down here, he's done it in the past often, whenever his tired muscles demanded a change in position and everyone was long gone. He knows he's impossible to spot down here, unless someone physically sticks their head into his cubicle. The office lights go out after a while, replaced with the softer hue of their office's emergency lighting, and Taeyong slowly relaxes into the cubicle's wall.

He's disturbed only minutes later, when a laugh erupts from the other side of their floor. It's unmistakably Youngho. And then, Yoonoh's voice. The one she uses when she wants something.

Taeyong stands up in time to see her slowly close the door to her new office, the pool of light coming from it slowly narrowing before vanishing with a click.

Did he see that right? Youngho had been stood behind her, and he thought he recognised the hunger in the other man's expression, even from this distance. His stomach does a little flip.

He walks over to her office silently, pausing a couple of times, wanting to make sure they weren't coming back out. Yoonoh's office door remains dark and quiet. He picks up a glass from the drink cart, and gently places it to the door, his ear pressed up against it.

It takes a while, but eventually, the noises of sex are unmistakable. His legs go weak in response, threatening to give out from underneath him. His dick has gone hard in his slacks. Yoonoh was being pleasured, a handful of metres away from him.

He hides in the bathroom, trying to wrap his head around his emotions.

She mistreated him. And then she apologised. And he had believed that apology.

But would it be wise to go back to their previous arrangement? He's been mulling it over for the last couple of days. He wants to, and yet something is holding him back. Something he hasn't found the words for yet.

When he exits the bathroom, it's with no plan. When his legs take him to Yoonoh's office, he doesn't question it. He knows he has to think, and talk. And he'll do both.

Later. Right now, he wants to see Jung Yoonoh. He wants to see what she does without him.

It's almost as if he was meant to open the door, a tableau greeting him that seems set up just for him, it's that perfect. The expensive leather chair has been moved from behind the desk, and Youngho is tied to it with a tie and stockings, one piece of clothing for each wrist. He's fully dressed still, but his dick is out. Yoonoh is stood besides him, wearing only heels.

"What the fuck," Youngho says, startled. He tries to cover himself, but his bindings stop him. Yoonoh doesn't visibly respond, simply looks at Taeyong, her eyes steady.

Taeyong gulps, and then just waits. She smiles at him.

"It's okay, Youngho-ssi. He's trustworthy," she says soothingly, after a few moments. She's petting at their former boss' side part, smoothing a few ruffled hairs back into place. The bottom half of his face looks kinda wet. Taeyong knows why, and feels pure envy. "And I'm thinking he's about to join us. If that's okay with you, that is."

"Uhhh," Youngho says, his eyes flitting back and forth between them.

"Close the door, Taeyong-ssi," Yoonoh instructs, still petting Youngho's hair, "and undress for us. Give him a chance to see if he likes you."

Taeyong obeys straight away. Isn't this what he came here to do, after all? Relent control.

He locks the door, because he actually loves his job and would like to keep it, and then undresses methodically.

Youngho is watching him with wide eyes. Uncertainty is written across his face, but there's also something else there. Curiosity. Arousal. They'd known each other for two years, and not once had they gone beyond polite office banter. And now his eyes were roaming down Taeyong's naked body, coming to a rest on his erection.

Yoonoh gestures at Taeyong to come closer. "Yes? No?" she asks Youngho.

Taeyong is convinced the other man is about to say no, right up until the moment where Taeyong sinks to his knees and starts crawling towards them. He watches him come closer with wide eyes, his chest visibly rising and falling.

By the time Taeyong has reached his knees, he's uttered a weak _yes_ , and Yoonoh is smiling wide enough for her dimples to become visible.

"Good job," she sighs out, and then grabs at Taeyong's hair, guiding him over Youngho's length. It's a big dick, and although Yoonoh had let him suck off one of her equally big strap-ons before, this was very different. Still, Taeyong gets to work with enthusiasm, feeling electric over the situation.

He had someone else in his mouth, someone he didn't give a fuck about beyond a professional setting, the second person he's ever had sex with - only because Jung Yoonoh wanted it of him. It's making him so hard he's having a hard time focusing, and maybe he doesn't need to, Yoonoh's fist in his hair there to guide him.

"Like we practised," she encourages softly. "Don't try to fit it all. Suck the tip. Yes, like that."

Youngho turns out fun to please, vocal and into it. Once Taeyong gets a rhythm going, he abandons all apprehension, muttering how much he likes it, praising Taeyong every time it feels good.

Yoonoh unties Youngho's hands after a while, and leans against the desk, simply watching them. But there's an eagerness in the way she's leaned slightly forward, in the way she hasn't crossed her arms, that fills Taeyong with pride.

Youngho doesn't get rough with him, just touches a thumb to his cheek when he's hollowing them out, and continues praising him. "You look so pretty like this... I wish I'd known.... Fuck, I would have had you sucking me off in this office every day."

It's good praise, he'll give him that. Taeyong's ears are burning.

"We could do that," Yoonoh suggests, "you have a couple more weeks here, right? If he's willing, I'll keep him available to you. He could use the practice."

Taeyong moans, he can't help it. She's so casual about it, like he's a thing, hers to lend. He wishes she'd left out the part about getting his consent, but aside from that, the sentiment had been perfect.

"Fuck," Youngho mutters, sounding just as affected. He pulls Taeyong off of him and starts jerking off, his handsome face scrunched up in concentration. Taeyong sits patiently, closing his eyes when Youngho starts coming over his face. No man has ever done that before, and it's different. Not as warm, not as full as when Yoonoh had done it.

Youngho leaves them not long after, his expression sobered up now that he'd come, a hint of uncertainty creeping back in.

Yoonoh kneels in front of Taeyong once they're alone, and cleans him up with his own work shirt. She takes her time with it, her touches exceedingly gentle. This is after-care, he realizes. She's trying to make things right, still.

When she finishes, she looks into his eyes. He looks back at her. It's all he can do.

"You've come back to me," she states quietly. She looks calm. Happy.

"I have."


	5. Chapter 5

Yoonoh is all over Taeyong after their encounter with Youngho. She takes him back to her place with overt pride in her expression, and won't stop kissing him as they cross the threshold of her apartment. 

"You were incredible."

She stands behind him as she unbuttons his top buttons and bares his shoulder, her mouth mapping out his skin.

She's murmuring right into his ear: "You're the sweetest, softest-" as he's watching the both of them in the hallway mirror, his breaths coming out in short puffs.

 _You have to talk,_ he thinks, _have to tell her-_

Her teeth close over the nape of his neck, her hand cupping the curve of his ass, and he moans, hand shooting out to balance himself against the mirror. She follows him, pushing him closer against the wall. 

"- most obedient and gorgeous-" 

She's practically rutting into him by now, hand kneading his ass cheek. The last time he got her this affected, during their evening in the bathroom, she'd been a bit tipsy. But he knows she's sober now, she drove them here and she's very strict on not drinking while driving. 

This behaviour she's displaying, it's all him.

"Can I fuck you?" she asks, interrupting her stream of compliments. She has his hips caged in her hands, her lips pressed to the side of his neck. He can see her looking at him in their reflection; he's never seen this much naked desire in her expression before. It feels like he's being burned from the inside out. "God, I want to fuck you."

He can't even form words, just nods almost imperceptibly, leaning into her grip.

The way they come together, it's different from both times they've done this before. She's not disconnected like the first time, nor hazy like that time he fucked her. She's attentive, present. Taeyong doesn't know what to do with this much of her focus, except try to survive it.

Her lubed fingers work him open with care, as he hugs her pillow, his ass up in the air. It's become obvious having him on all fours is her favourite position. He's come to learn it's his, too. 

"Which dick?" she asks, as she presses kisses along the length of his spine. 

"You pick," he says, with some difficulty. It's hard to stay present, coherent, when his favourite person is working him open like this. It pushes him deep into the recesses of his own mind.

The toy she decides on is average in size, the pace slow. Unlike every other time, she doesn't seem to be chasing anything.

"You're taking me so well," she praises him, as she rolls her hips into him. He nods, but stays quiet. Getting fucked by her, the person who has held the main role in every fantasy he harboured for the last two years, of course it's affecting him. 

But he finds that, this time, something feels a little off about it. 

He likes to be hurt. He already liked that dynamic intrinsically, and she's been meeting him at that level, beat for beat. He's grown used to being indulged in that way. The lack of pain, this time, leaves him feeling a bit off-kilter. And maybe it's more layered than that, and he should dig deeper, but this all he can come up with in the moment. He wants pain.

"This is where you belong," Yoonoh states quietly, pushing into him deep. Just like that, it slots into place. She's enjoying the simple pleasure of subjugating him, nothing more. Taeyong shivers in response, the thought causing goosebumps all over. She's laying claim to him, more than just physically.

She takes her time, and he keeps his eyes closed for most of it; listening to the slight changes in her breathing, the quiet slap of their bodies connecting. There's a few pauses, where she pulls out and lubes him up more. It's clear she desires no repeat of the damage she did the first time. It still starts chafing a little towards the end, causing his erection to swell in interest, but by that time she's coming. He moans when she pulls out, both pleased and gutted. He's very proud of himself, for getting her off, but it feels empty to be without her.

She lets herself fall back against the mattress, laughing as she breathes through the aftershocks of her pleasure. "That was good," she states simply. He turns around to look at her, observing the way her hair has fanned out against the mattress like a halo, the sweet curve of her breasts as her chest rises and falls. He crawls over to her and closes his mouth over one her nipples, giving it a gentle suck. She squirms a little in response, and gathers him to her, arm around his shoulders.

"You really are the softest thing, hm," she states tenderly, "we're going to have to think of a proper reward after all this good behaviour."

He's quiet for a bit, as he comes back to himself. "Actually, could we- I wanted to talk to you. About this." He gestures over both of them. "Not as a reward. Just in general."

Her expression becomes more serious. "... you're right, and we should. But not tonight, if you don't mind? I'm tired and I will need a clear head for this talk. Tonight, I really want- that is, if you want-"

Her hand comes to a rest on his ass again, a silent request for permission. He nods, and inhales when her fingers slips into him smoothly. 

She fingers him for a while, circling his prostate, and allows him to rut against her thigh. Her mouth finds his shoulder, refreshing old bruises, causing him to gasp in excitement. She keeps it up until he's breathless and moaning. 

"Do you want to come?" she asks, voice rough.

"No," he admits quietly, eyes squeezed shut tightly. He just wants to be edged, and come later to the thought of it once he's by himself again.

"We have to keep you wet and open from here on out. In case Youngho says yes."

He clings to her, pushing back against her fingers now. He's close, so close. "Do you want Youngho to fuck me?"

"Yes. Are you close?"

He nods frantically. "Yes, yes, close, unnie, I'm-"

She pulls her fingers out of him, a warm laugh against his ear. It's not a second too soon, his cock jerking once, twice. A little ejaculate drips from the tip, but he doesn't come, his orgasm effectively ruined. His fingers are digging into her arm, his breathing hard. It's quiet for a while.

" _Unnie_ ," she acknowledges, eventually. "I see."

He can't help but feel caught, hiding his face against her chest. This side of him is one he didn't mean to share, and he can feel his face flushing. His jaw is cupped, and she forces him to look up at her. Yoonoh's dimples deepen as she grins over his blushing, but she doesn't pry beyond that. She just caresses him, until he calms down, his feelings of shame slowly dissipating. 

He gets put to bed in the dog bed, with a kiss to his forehead and a small butt plug lodged inside of him.

\--

In the following weeks Taeyong starts making double his usual income, because their former boss takes Yoonoh up on her offer. And to Taeyong's surprise, pays very handsomely for it. He wonders if a rate had been set for him beforehand, wonders what that conversation had been like. 

It's a little awkward the first time. They're in Yoonoh's office, where she's left them for the evening, and Youngho is leaned against the edge of her desk. Taeyong is stood before him, and the conversation opens with a rundown of his safety word and gesture, which then uncomfortably transitions into Youngho explaining he's not gay.

"Uh- I don't care," Taeyong replies, blinking at the man in front of him. "I didn't think that's what we're doing here? I'm here because Yoonoh-ssi wants me to be."

Youngho laughs at that, looking relieved. "Yes, okay, exactly. It's like you're _her_ , but it's all twisted. You know?"

Taeyong feels so much warmth spreading through him at being told he's being perceived as an extension of Yoonoh, he can't think of anything to say.

"Anyways, you should start calling me Johnny. I don't like to be too formal, at least not with people outside of work. I told Yoonoh the same thing, but she told me to fuck off." He grins, thrilled. "That woman! She's something else, alright."

Frankly, Taeyong could listen to Yoonoh being praised for hours. She's one of the most exciting people he's ever met, and he feels intensely gratified when others acknowledge it. But Young- _Johnny_ is paying an obscene amount of money for an hour of Taeyong's time. The least he can do is keep the focus with him. "Johnny..? Why do you like to use your foreign name."

"I grew up in the States," Johnny explains in perfect English. It clicks for Taeyong; why the other was always so loud, and walked around like he owned the place. If he'd grown up over there, he'd inevitably cause a bit of dissonance in a more rigid society.

"Ah, I see," he says in Korean, and smiles apologetically. "I'm sorry, I can understand you but I don't speak much."

"That's fine," Johnny says, also switching back to Korean, "we're not really here to hear you speak."

It becomes easier when Johnny slides into that kind of language. Taeyong can fall back on his training, turn off his brain and simply do what is asked of him. He undresses, like he did the first time. Not trying to be seductive, instead offering access. Johnny's eyes zoom in on the cage he's wearing today, as soon as it comes into view.

"What's _that_ ," he asks.

"My chastity device," Taeyong explains, flushing in response. He had brought it into work without a second thought, after being instructed to. Yoonoh had put it on and locked it for him, earlier in the office bathroom, and told him where she'd leave the key in her desk. 

Now, under Johnny's scrutiny, he remembers that no one besides Yoonoh has ever seen him in this, and that it's really kind of out there.

"Dude... she really owns you, doesn't she." Johnny is visibly titillated, and Taeyong bites his bottom lip in response. He wants it to be true, but he's not sure if it is. Not in the way Johnny thinks.

But was this why he was wearing this out in public for the first time? So neither could forget who Taeyong belonged to? He feels slight desperation at the thought. Because oh, he wants that: to belong to Jung Yoonoh.

"Can you even come, wearing that?" Johnny asks, pushing himself up from the desk and walking closer. He's really tall, Taeyong realizes, when the other man stops right in front of him. Just as tall as Yoonoh in heels. It makes him feel a little dizzy.

"In theory, I could. But I'm still being trained," Taeyong says softly, clasping his hands over his elbows behind his back. It's hard to keep his posture open and inviting like this, shyness overwhelming him. He's grateful for every moment Yoonoh has spent training him, teaching him to objectify his own body, because it's all that's granting him enough courage to keep standing here like this, under the intense scrutiny of Johnny's gaze.

Johnny reaches out, almost touching the see-through plastic, but his hand pauses in mid-air. He smirks and pulls his hand back. "Ah, I shouldn't. I've only bought access to your holes, she was very explicit about that. I think she could tell that I'd be overly curious."

"Oh, that reminds me," Taeyong utters, crouching and removing condoms and lube from his work satchel as slowly as he can. He's grateful to be crouching, to be able to steal a moment to himself. Johnny, looking at him like he was a particularly alluring piece of meat; it's affecting him more than he'd anticipated. 

He doesn't care for Johnny one way or the other, as a person, but something is tugging at the centre of his self, like he's gone magnetic. He takes a deep breath before rising back to his feet and placing both items in Johnny's hands. "I was instructed to bring these, in case you want to fuck me."

Johnny clicks his tongue at the box of condoms, turning it over. "She remembered my brand. How thoughtful. These are import," he explains, showing off the American branding. "Not that I'm so attached to where my condoms are produced, but the large ones available here are just a hair too tight. And turns out, that bit of tightness gets really uncomfortable really fast when your dick is involved. Anyways," he says, tossing the box onto the desk, "I'm not in the mood to fuck today. Maybe next time."

 _Next time_ , Taeyong thinks. They're really doing this. _You talk too much,_ he also thinks. He misses Yoonoh, who just gets on with it once she has him naked. It feels strange to be aimlessly naked in an office. He hopes they'll get things going soon, so he can heat up.

Johnny seems to have gained in confidence since their first encounter. Maybe because things are more clearly defined, or because he's had time to plan this out a bit. 

He's not shy about telling Taeyong what he wants, not shy about positioning him this way or that way. It makes Taeyong realize why he feels a measure of attraction today; there's a power exchange between them, where there was none before. He gets pushed onto his knees in front of the leather chair, told to keep his hands behind his back. He naturally reacts to being guided, becoming more pliant every time Johnny is forceful. 

The other man picks up on it, and starts testing his limits. "Do you want me to hold your by your hair while you suck me off? Is that what Yoonoh does."

"Yes," Taeyong says reluctantly, keeping his eyes on Johnny's zipper. He needs... needs something to happen. Is Johnny ever going to be done talking? It's almost as if he's in love with the sound of his own voice. 

_Right_ , Taeyong reminds himself, _American,_ and his heart softens a little. No person got to pick their culture, after all.

And then Johnny is finally grabbing him by his hair, tugging him closer until Taeyong's entire face is pressed up against his clothed erection. Taeyong fights the fist in his hair, twisting his head so he can mouth him through the fabric eagerly. He's so happy for something to finally be happening, and he'll be damned if he lets Johnny get distracted again.

Johnny frees himself soon after, and Taeyong holds eye contact with him as he sucks the tip into his mouth.

"No, not like that," Johnny mutters, voice heavy with arousal, "take it all, Yong."

Taeyong spends a lot of time choking and struggling, which seems to be exactly what his former boss wants. He realizes he's not being treated like a person anymore, not like last time. Something has definitely shifted, and it's so good like this. 

He already can't wait to meet Johnny again.

\--

"Feeling frisky or hungry?" she asks, playful.

He can't help but feel caught, hiding his face against her chest. Is he that transparent, or did she have a lucky guess? He'd been cosied up against her, one of her nipples in his mouth as he sucked languidly, and she scrolled through her phone.

"Are you saying you have a breastfeeding kink?" he asks, trying to sound casual. He fails.

"Hmmm, _I_ sure don't. But. I'll play if you want to play."

"No, that's alright, I'm- no. But thank you for the offer," he replies, stilted. This conversation is embarrassing him. She already knows about his unnie kink, he's not ready to delve any deeper than that.

"How did things go with Youngho?"

"He told me to call him Johnny." This earns an eyeroll from Yoonoh, and a muttered _of course he did._

"Uh, it was fun, I think? He had me suck him off, and that's about it."

Yoonoh presses a kiss to Taeyong's temple, putting her phone away. "I'm proud of you. I didn't expect you to take to being sold this well, I thought it would take you longer to get used to it. The office mouse, a natural whore. Who would've thunk it."

Taeyong revels in the praise. If she hadn't locked him up when he came in, he'd be growing hard right about now. It seems they've taken the next step in his chastity training, because she used the padlock again, and again told him where to find the key. He wonders if she'll stop telling him at some point.

"About that, I was wondering... is that what this is? You own me, sell me. Is that what we're doing here?"

Yoonoh is quiet for a while, one of her slender, beautifully manicured fingers tracing circles over Taeyong's shoulder. She's wearing a shimmery nail polish today, a muted champagne colour. She has heels in that same colour... he's getting distracted.

"Honestly, it isn't fully defined for me either. I know we should define it, and I want to. I'm happy hurting you, but- it has to be good for both of us."

Taeyong nods, idly thinking to himself that having this conversation while naked, her right nipple inches removed from his mouth, was a complete mistake. He closes his eyes, and tries to think of unpleasant things. Good God, she smells good.

"There's things I can't do for you," she continues, "I can't be your girlfriend. I don't want to be, is what I mean. I acknowledge that this has become a relationship, but I don't have any romantic feelings for you. And I'd understand if that doesn't cut it for you. Still, I can't be more than your... the closest available word would be domme, I guess. But please, don't call me that."

Taeyong has grown increasingly fuzzy, listening to her, something warm settling in his chest. They were in a relationship. He had suspected as much, after she'd fucked him so tenderly, but it felt extremely gratifying to hear her voice it.

"I know this might come as a surprise to you, but I don't have any romantic feelings for you either."

"Hul? You're right, I am surprised." Yoonoh cranes her neck to look at him, her dimples lining an open-mouthed smile, her eyebrows raised. He's never managed to catch her this off-guard before, and he revels in it, just a tiny bit. "Wait, really?"

Taeyong nods, his gaze tracing the wealth of freckles across the bridge of her nose. "Don't get me wrong, I'm obsessed with you. You're pretty much all I think about. But. I don't want more than this? This thing we have now, it's exactly what I've spent years fantasizing about. Or, no. You've exceeded the fantasy." He places an arm over her waist, and rests his cheek on her shoulder. "The way you treat me, like you own me. I like it so much. I like all of it so much."

Yoonoh huffs out a laugh, sounding satisfied. "I guess that settles that, then." She studies his face, dimples still prominent. "You're mine."

Taeyong squirms. He can't be done talking yet, he needs to say it all, all the things he's been mulling over. But it's hard when she says things like that, like it's casual, like it's not burning a hole through his ability to think straight. "J-just don't... don't reject me again? I mean, you can. You should. But not the way you did it that time."

"No, you're right. I lost control, and projected something onto you I had no business projecting onto you." She looks at him, rolls her lips into her mouth. There's something she isn't saying; he's beginning to pick up on her tells. But he's learned not to pry. She'll either inform him in time - or she won't. "I'm not going to pretend and say I'm going to be perfect for you every time. I'm a human, just as stupid and short-sighted as the next one. I'll fuck up again, no doubt. But I'll be mindful not to repeat that mistake. I'll try to keep you safe."

"Same," he says quietly, reaching out to tuck a strand of her red hair behind her ear. It's more firey than usual, she must've gone with a new colour. "I'll always do my best to make you feel safe."

"Me?" she asks, playful again, lightly shaking her shoulders. "Whatever do you mean, I'm the bad bitch in the office, I don't need anyone looking out for me." 

He smiles. Over the self-deprecation, the faux-bravado, the lightness of her demeanour. She's the cutest human he's ever met. And he's hers.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taeil is a 5ft/152cm girl in this universe bc I'm a slut for femct and tiny pretty Taeil

Taeyong maybe has been spending a little too much time at Yoonoh's place. In his defense, it wasn't entirely without reason. 

He's sitting on her huge sectional couch with a thousand mile stare, biting down on the nail of his thumb as he's reconsidering the series of events that led him here. Revelling in it, would be a more accurate description. Revelling in both the physical pleasures Yoonoh had introduced him to, and in the way she always seemed able to meet him at his level. The way she kept taking his firsts with an eye for perversion.

It's not that Taeyong has never been with anyone before. He has. But since his long-term high school sweetheart, Moon Taeil, had been asexual, he'd just never gotten around to getting any first-hand experience.

And that otherwise sweet relationship had had a traumatising end, enough that it left him averse to dating for years thereafter.

Pining was easier. Safer. He wouldn't run the risk of getting hurt like that again, or of hurting someone else with his selfish behaviour, if he just kept the objects of his affection at a distance. 

Until Yoonoh threw a wrench in that plan. Yoonoh, who seemed to see him more clearly than he could see himself. 

Where at first it had just been (maybe mildly obsessive) lust, he now felt increasingly protective over her. Her and her career.

She had slid into her new position as boss smoothly - in part thanks to a lot of genuine mentoring from Johnny - but she was still fresh in the role. An inappropriate relationship with a subordinate could cause permanent damage to, if not her reputation, her authority.

And they were still so high off the newness of their commitment, overly touchy and smiley, that they had to find ways to get it out of their system before going into work.

So it was kind of justified for him to be here for the fourth time this week. Yeah.

But there was a company outing for the higher-ups tonight, which Taeyong had forgotten about until he was already walking through the door. He decided he'd hang out until he got tired, and then hopefully get waken up by her.

The door lock sings out its little welcome song before midnight hits - she's back pretty early. And with Johnny in tow, no less. Yoonoh's movements are uncoordinated, cheeks flushed, and Johnny's hands are wandering, and she's letting them wander. It's easy to tell they've had a couple of glasses. 

He watches as Johnny presses up against her back, watches as his hand travels over Yoonoh's side, over her stomach, in between her legs...

"Hi," he calls out, because he really shouldn't be watching them like this without making himself known. Yoonoh's head whips round, her expression turning softer when she spots Taeyong.

"I didn't know you'd be here," she says, not sounding put out in the slightest. She abandons Johnny in the hallway, kicking off her heels as she goes, landing knees first on her massive sectional and crawling closer. Despite being intoxicated, she's quite graceful, her shoulders moving smoothly as she closes the distance between them.

She crawls on top of him and starts undoing his work shirt, mouth latched to the side of his neck. "I've missed you," she sighs out, and he smells the wine on her breath.

Taeyong didn't expect her to be like this from the first second, so hot and bothered, so eager. But he's happy to meet her halfway, letting his head fall back to grant her better access, pushing his hips up so she can feel his growing interest.

He catches Johnny's eye, who is still standing near the doorway. He looks dishevelled, to say the least, tie undone and lipstick smeared across his cheek. Taeyong holds out an inviting hand to him, and that's all it takes.

It's a lot, two drunk bodies pressing into him, feeling him up, mouths kissing the sides of his neck. He tries to decipher which touch belongs to who, but it's hopeless, and in the end he just gives himself over to being felt up six ways to Sunday, letting himself melt into the couch.

"Ah-" he moans when a hand lands on his growing erection, rubbing him harshly through the fabric of his slacks. He learns it had been Johnny, because Yoonoh scolds him for it.

"No, not there," she says, pulling Johnny's hand away. Taeyong tucks his chin against his chest, dazedly observing them both. 

Johnny looks like he's about to protest, but Yoonoh sucks one of his fingers into her mouth and the words die in his throat. She sucks it for a while, taking the digit deeper slowly, and has both Taeyong and Johnny entranced with the display. Taeyong can almost, _almost_ picture how good her mouth must feel, giving a blowjob.

It's making him ache for the sensation. But he knows the closest he's going to get, is Johnny.

He squirms down in between them, until he's face to face with Johnny's crotch, beginning to undo his belt buckle. Yoonoh guides Johnny flat onto his back, giving Taeyong easier access, and Johnny is groaning in anticipation, bucking his hips.

"Oh fuck," he mutters, his big hand finding Taeyong's hair and grabbing hold of it. They'd developed a routine over the many times they'd done this at the office. Johnny had figured out what Taeyong enjoyed about having his hair pulled, in the sense that he didn't really want it pulled. He mostly liked the sensation of a fist at the base of his hair, where it was longest, gathering tightly, keeping him in place. The promise of resistance, should he try to move away, was hotter than actually being yanked around.

The weight and taste of Johnny's cock is familiar on his tongue, and it's comforting. Warm. He sucks him off with small noises of pleasure, giving himself over to the act. It's such a beautiful dick too, so thick and proud. 

Sometimes he thinks Johnny might have ruined him for all other dicks. But he can't be certain, because it's the only one he's ever known, aside from Yoonoh's plastic and rubber collection.

Johnny's hand is still at the back of his hair, but his fist has relaxed, too distracted by Yoonoh.

She's kissing him unhurriedly, her hand cupping his face and then tracing his broad chest. His hand has slid underneath her skirt, and Taeyong can hear it when he starts fucking her on his fingers, the sounds sinfully wet.

"Big... feels good," she gasps out, grinding down on his hand. Taeyong reaches out to push her skirt up, so he can see where Johnny's fingers are disappearing inside of her. He has her panties pushed to the side, and that more than anything makes arousal spark in his belly. 

"Let me fuck you," Johnny asks, his fingers pushing in as deep as they'll go. Taeyong watches Yoonoh's folds get pulled along, turning white from the sheer pressure he's putting on her pussy. "I'll fuck you so hard you'll feel it for a week."

"No," she says, in a way that makes it sound like she's said it a dozen times before. But she sounds pleased.

"Please," Johnny begs, "Christ, I'll do anything-"

She hikes up her skirt further and clumsily sits down on his face, cutting off his words. Her hands are digging into the backrest, and she rides his face with intent, hips rolling rhythmically.

"No one fucks me," she informs him, "especially not some yuppie like you."

Johnny's hands are squeezing her thighs, fingers digging into the flesh. He's so affected his voice goes rough, moaning louder the longer Yoonoh grinds her pussy into his mouth.

Taeyong stops sucking him off, mouth hanging open dumbly, spellbound by Yoonoh taking her pleasure. She's never sat on Taeyong's face before, not like _that_ in any case, and it's quickly becoming his new life's mission. Her panties have gathered in between her ass cheeks, the material bunching up because Johnny is tugging on it so tightly, trying to expose her further, get more of her in his mouth.

She comes with a shout, thighs quivering and hand tugging on Johnny's hair as she rolls her body instinctively, following the waves of pleasure crashing through her.

She slides down to lie next to Johnny then, pressing her flushed face against his shoulder. He looks just as wrecked, face glistening with her wetness. Taeyong wants to kiss both of them. Instead he goes back to sucking off Johnny, sticking with the familiar option.

"You want to fuck a hole that badly?" she asks, her breathing still laboured from how hard she rode Johnny.

Johnny makes a sound between pleasure and affirmation, his hand reaching down to trace where the head of his dick is rounding out Taeyong's cheek.

"I know a pretty one," she points out with a grin. "It loves getting fucked... don't you want to wreck a pretty boy pussy, Youngho-ssi? It's so cute. And it's never had a cock like yours in it."

Taeyong thinks he could just about die with embarrassment, hearing himself described like that. Johnny has had the option to fuck him for weeks now, but had never made a move, and Taeyong hadn't pushed it either. As fond as he'd become of Johnny's dick and bedside manner, and as much as he wanted to please Yoonoh, he still felt shy, truth be told. 

He doubles his efforts, taking in Johnny as deep as he can manage, anything to keep himself occupied.

"What do you think?" she murmurs, her fingers tracing one of Johnny's nipples through his shirt.

"Yeah," Johnny says after several seconds of silence, swallowing harshly.

"Yeah? You want to bury yourself in it?" she asks, gently pinching his nipple now.

"Fuck," Johnny says, pushing his hair back, "yeah, I want to. I really fucking want to."

"It's yours. You've paid for it." 

Taeyong moans at that, choking lightly when Johnny bucks his hips up in response.

"You're both... both going to be the end of me," Johnny grits out, covering his face with a hand.

Yoonoh climbs over the backrest on unsteady legs, and comes back completely naked, a box of Johnny's brand of condoms and a bottle of lube in her hands. She places the box near Johnny's hip and then settles behind Taeyong, tugging down his slacks and underwear with impatient movements. 

"Pretty baby," Yoonoh hums from behind Taeyong, sliding slicked fingertips over his hole, and then _kisses and licks it_. Taeyong just about loses his mind, pulling off Johnny and rubbing his face against his hip, a high-pitched moan forcing its way out of his throat.

Yoonoh is both enthusiastic and skilled, her tongue and fingers working him open steadily.

He can't remember ever being eaten out before. And it's Yoonoh. He says her name every other breath, pleading for more, biting down on Johnny's thigh in a futile attempt to keep himself grounded. Johnny hisses but does nothing to stop him, petting Taeyong's hair as he watches the display in front of him.

Taeyong resigns himself to suckling the head of Johnny's dick, too overwhelmed to do a better job, but it seems to satisfy Johnny all the same. His eyes go back and forth between Taeyong's mouth, and the line of Yoonoh's body.

"Put a condom on him," she instructs after a while, and Taeyong obeys with difficulty, because she's pushing her tongue in so _deep_ and oh, God.

When she's satisfied with her work, she guides Taeyong to lie over the broad backrest of the couch, knees tucked against its cushions. His head hangs over the side, and all he can see is the back of the couch and the floor.

Then she sits down on the small of his back, and the pressure of her entire weight on him is so good, keeping him trapped in place. 

"Look how pretty."

He hears a grunt from Johnny, and then fingers, rubbing over his hole.

"He's very pretty," he admits in an affected tone of voice, and Taeyong makes an equally affected sound.

"Taeyong-ah, please be quiet," Yoonoh asks him firmly, giving his ass cheek a harsh pinch. He bites his bottom lip and squeezes his eyes shut, already knowing he won't be able to keep silent. But for Yoonoh, he's willing to try.

"Are you going to pretend it's me?" she asks Johnny conversationally, and he can feel Johnny coming closer, his thighs pressing into Taeyong's. "How twisted."

More lube is spread over his hole, and pushed into him, and then Johnny is sinking into him, slow but relentless.

Johnny moans when he fucks into him, a guttural sound that's mirrored by Taeyong. The drag of it, the sheer weight of it settling in his guts, he can't breathe for a couple of seconds. Yoonoh gets off of him and he gets pulled back onto the couch, hips caged in Johnny's hands.

"Still good for you?" Yoonoh asks him, rubbing a soothing hand in between his shoulder blades. He nods, and then says _yes_ , his voice barely able to form the word.

The pace Johnny sets is brutal, pulling out all the way before slamming back in. And again. And again. 

Taeyong is moaning continuously, entirely unable to keep his sounds in. An occasional slap lands on his ass as he's rammed into over and over, and he's not sure who is hitting him, but it doesn't matter. He hasn't been fucked this hard since his first time with Yoonoh, but it's almost better than that time, because she's stretched him often enough that there's pleasure with the pain now. And there's an extra layer to the domination that makes his toes curl. 

He can feel himself slipping, carried away by how much he loves this. But he doesn't want to, wants to be here for every moment of it.

"It won't be so cute anymore after you're done with it," Yoonoh's voice comes, floating towards him as if originating from nowhere, "look-"

Johnny pulls out, and Taeyong moans in protest. He doesn't want it to be over yet, he wants more, _harder_.

His ass cheeks are being spread wider, Johnny making a deeply affected noise. 

"Look how much you're gaping him," Yoonoh says. Taeyong whines loudly in response, his fingers scrambling for purchase on the smooth surface of the couch when he's fucked into again.

Johnny occasionally pulls out now, rough fingers tracing the rim of Taeyong's hole, spreading him wide. One of them spits on him at some point, and he sobs as he feels his dick jump in response. He's so turned on he could come with a single stroke.

"Touch me?" he pleads, voice cracking.

"Of course not," Yoonoh says, sounding a little incredulous, "something as slutty as you should have learned to come from his ass by now. Useless little thing."

Johnny starts fucking him so hard he can't speak anymore, seemingly determined to get Taeyong there. He wants to, more than anything he wants to. He can almost taste his release, the pleasure of Johnny's cock dragging over his prostate settling into his bones, tingling across his skin. He's a breath away, a miniscule amount of extra stimulation away from coming untouched...

But he stays there, teetering right on the edge, impossibly turned on. Johnny comes, slamming in hard a final time, and Taeyong sobs out of sheer frustration, his leaking erection hanging heavy in between his legs.

Yoonoh is careful with him after, making sure nothing touches his erection until it has gone down a bit, undressing him. She pecks his lips while she works, and forbids him from touching himself. Johnny is sitting back on the couch, looking overheated, buttons of his shirt undone. Yoonoh pours him another glass of wine - her favourite, which Taeyong always keeps her fridge stocked with now - and tells him she'll be back in a bit.

"You'll never learn if you give in now," she tells Taeyong gently while she's putting him to bed. He's not about to come anymore, but his erection is still warm and hard against his stomach, throbbing with unreleased arousal.

"I know," he says, squirming and balling his hands into fists against his chest. "I want to be caged. I might touch myself in my sleep."

It's hard to get him into the cage, he's too turned on to fit. Yoonoh ends up having to pinch one of his balls very hard to get him to flag enough to fit the chastity device around him. She locks it with a satisfied sigh, and Taeyong feels equally accomplished. He feels warm everywhere, the faint residual of pain heightening how good he feels. 

She's about to place the key on her night stand, but he speaks up in protest.

"No, can you... I don't want to know where it is. Please?"

Yoonoh smiles at him. "Are you sure? That's pretty fast. I don't want you waking up, feeling trapped."

"I won't," he assures her. He might, actually. But he's desperate to be better, to impress her. And she does look impressed, crouching next to him and petting his hair.

"Good boy," she whispers softly, and he closes his eyes, feeling tingly everywhere. "I'm going to go spend some time with Youngho-ssi now. We have things to discuss, things that are much too complicated for a dumb little boy like you... but if you need me, you can call for me." 

Taeyong nods and closes his eyes, finally letting himself sink away in that space between here and there.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: extensive piercing descriptions

**04:32, from Jung Yoonoh**  
_I got you a gift._

The little _katok_ notification sound rings out in Yoonoh's bedroom, and Taeyong smiles to himself when he reads the message, face lit up by the glow of his phone.

 **04:34, from Taeyongg~** _  
I'm literally at the foot of your bed ㅎㅅㅎ whyy are you messaging me_

"Because I wanted a reminder of the exact moment I did this," Yoonoh says out loud, "now come here."

"I'm too tired," Taeyong complains, but he's already crawling up onto the bed. Johnny shifts in his sleep on his side of the mattress, but doesn't wake up. Not surprising, after the multitude of soju bottles he'd emptied at his company farewell dinner. Taeyong could probably lie down on top of him and still not wake him.

He's a little buzzed himself, but it's already wearing off. Yoonoh had abstained, since she'd come by car.

The dinner had gone on much longer than anticipated, because Johnny wouldn't stop ordering new rounds. Eventually their department's director had cut him off, good-humouredly stating his wife might kill him if he didn't head home soon. As if the guy was heading anywhere besides the apartment he kept his mistress in, Taeyong had thought to himself.

At almost four in the morning there hadn't been enough taxis milling around the restaurant to get everyone home, which is how Yoonoh got strongarmed into carpooling.

She'd icily refused, and had then allowed Taeyong to haul a blotto Johnny into her backseat anyways. More colleagues were about to pile in, when Johnny had begun making wretched puking noises.

"He's buying me new upholstery," she'd told Taeyong flatly, before directing him towards the front passenger seat.

"Did I scare them off?" Johnny had slurred proudly once they were underway. "They had no clue I was faking it the whole time. Fools. I have what it takes to become– acting chops, you know? Raw talent. My daddy always says... well, I don't recall what he says just now, but he says it with gravitas. And that's what's important. Hey, could you pull over real quick?"

An emergency stop on the bridge into Gangnam —featuring five minutes of Johnny puking his guts out — and one fraught elevator ride later, they'd made it to Yoonoh's place safely.

Johnny had remained coherent long enough to brush his teeth with Yoonoh's toothbrush — "He's buying me a new toothbrush." — and then down a litre of water. Yoonoh and Taeyong were still changing into their pyjamas, by the time he was passed out on the bed, snoring unattractively.

It had kind of amazed Taeyong that Johnny was allowed on the bed. And then it had turned him on.

"He can stay over this time?" he'd asked, a little nervous about the situation.

Yoonoh had nodded distractedly, busy rifling through her night stand. "Drank way too much tonight... might throw up in his sleep and die."

That was ten minutes ago. Taeyong had routinely gotten comfortable on his pet bed, settling in for the night.

But now, Yoonoh appears to have a different plan.

He gets cosy in between Johnny and Yoonoh's warm bodies, his hand automatically landing on her hip in a tender gesture. She's been letting him get away with a lot more ever since they'd become official, and he's been taking full advantage.

She reaches over and turns on her bedside lamp, holding a box when she rolls back towards him.

"Here."

"What is it?" he asks automatically, leaning up on an elbow to inspect it. It's smooth and opens on a hinge. Like a ring box, but much bigger and flatter.

She gives him a teasing eyeroll. "Just open the box, dummy."

Inside is a solid silver band, almost unremarkable in its simplicity. But Taeyong feels heat spreading through him at the sight of it. It's unmistakably a collar.

"Oh," he says, blinking at it. It's not that he had never thought about this specific mark of ownership; he had daydreamed about it plenty. But he hadn't considered it might actually be happening soon. Hadn't even realized it was something Yoonoh had been thinking about.

"You don't have to respond straight away," Yoonoh assures him, "just consider it an expression of my commitment. I'm not in any rush though, and we could continue without it–"

"I've never been proposed to before," Taeyong interrupts in a mutter, his fingertip sliding over the collar. The material is cool and unyielding. He can already imagine what it would feel like against his throat.

Yoonoh smiles at him. Not a full smile, just enough to bring out those dimples. Something in his chest cheers at the sight. She reaches out and closes the box again, placing it back on her nightstand. He can't seem to take his eyes off of it.

"I chose silver because I thought it could look pretty with some other things I've got planned for you."

He looks at her, curiosity painted plainly across his features.

"I thought, maybe, we could get something pierced on you...? I don't know if that's something you'd be into, I know body modification is kind of a big step. We don't have to do it." Her words are paced, like they always are, but she looks a little nervous. He can't get over how precious she is to him, more than ever in this moment.

"I would really, really like that," he reassures her, eagerness on full display. It's something he hadn't considered until now, but the thought of giving Yoonoh yet another avenue to decide things in regards to his body undeniably makes him happy. He looks down his chest, and then back up at her. "Uh, so, where were you thinking?"

A light flush of pleasure has coloured her cheeks, and she leans in to peck his lips. "I have some ideas. Nipples, maybe? Belly button? Or–" her eyes flit down suggestively, and Taeyong can feel himself heating up instantly. "Since that's of no use to either of us, might as well make it look a little prettier?" She gives him another kiss, another innocent meeting of lips, but it lasts a bit longer. "They say not to fuck for a couple of weeks, after getting it done. But since yours never fucks, it'll have all the time in the world to heal."

Taeyong swallows with difficulty, and then nods, head starting to feel pleasantly foggy. "Can we– get me pierced soon?"

Another chaste kiss, smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "So eager."

Taeyong can only nod, thoughts unfocused. He's grown hard, and he's so close to her.

"I know someone who does beautiful work. I've worked with him a couple of times before, he's very trustworthy."

Taeyong wonders what that means. Yoonoh doesn't have any piercings.

"I'll check in with him, hear out his schedule... anyways, we'll discuss it more when you're sober," she says, her tone still warm but also firm now, indicating their conversation is over.

She leans over him to press a ticklish goodnight kiss to his neck, and his entire body responds, because all he can feel is the promise of something else that could be resting there soon. He grabs at her arm, pressing his hips up lightly, just enough to make his excitement known.

She smiles against his skin. "Oh? What's this?" she asks, reaching down and giving him a gentle squeeze through the fabric of his sleepwear. While her pyjamas were an expensive silky set, his were childish in comparison. A soft fabric, equally soft pastel colours depicting a pattern of cute little cats. She didn't buy it for him, he brought it from home upon her request. "He woke up for me?"

"Yeah," he says thickly.

She gives his dick a condescending pat. "That's so sweet. But you have to be a good boy now, and go to bed."

"Girl," Taeyong whispers after a couple of seconds. It's so soft, it would've been easy to miss. But Yoonoh rarely misses things.

"Girl," she agrees after her own moment of silence, her hand coming up to rub the lapel of his pyjamas in between her fingertips, "be a good girl for me, Taeyong-ah. Hm? That's all _unni_ wants."

He inhales sharply at the term, pressing his dick against her thigh once more. The punishment is swift, her fingers finding his nipple through the fabric of his pyjamas and twisting harshly. He gasps and whines, a sharp tingle of pleasured-pain radiating outwards. He backs off, and she rolls away from him.

"Down." There's no more warmth in her tone, her expression cool.

He nods dazedly and slips off the bed. It doesn't take him long at all to fall asleep, listening to Johnny's rhythmic snoring — which has an oddly calming effect — and feeling like a warm haze has enveloped his entire body.

\--

To Taeyong's continued surprise, they spend their Saturday together in quiet companionship. He had assumed Yoonoh would be kicking Johnny out the second he woke up — if not both of them — because he hadn't been allowed to stay at all after fucking Taeyong so nicely across the back of the couch.

But instead she remains curled up on her sectional with a giant café au lait and her phone, and seems content to let them take over her space for the day.

Which Johnny does, in true masculine fashion. He wakes up chipper and drags Taeyong into the shower with him, where he proceeds to use every single one of Yoonoh's products. Taeyong's repeated explanations that that stuff Johnny was currently rubbing into his face was most definitely a foot scrub doesn't slow him down in the slightest. Which Taeyong deems unreasonable behaviour.

Why didn't Johnny care about this kind of stuff? And why wasn't he hungover? It was just, unnatural.

He wishes he was showering with Yoonoh instead. But she must've woken up at least an hour ahead of them, because he'd seen her running gear strewn across the hallway and her hair had been up in a towel. The collar had also conspicuously been missing from her night stand. He wonders where it is. He doesn't want to mess with it, just wants to look at it one more time.

They come out of the bathroom, Taeyong in one of Yoonoh's fluffy bathrobes and Johnny in a towel that's been slung around his waist. Johnny then insists on making them breakfast, and Taeyong's incredulity rises to new heights when Yoonoh seems eager about it.

"What would you like?" Johnny asks her, as she slides into her breakfast nook. She pats the space next to her, and Taeyong obeys automatically, huddling close.

"Just some cereal, please. I'm not in the mood for something heavy."

"Cool if I fry up some eggs?" he asks next, already grabbing half a dozen from the fridge's door.

"You don't need that many, Taeyong will be having cereal too," Yoonoh points out. Taeyong hums and hides his face against her arm, feeling cared for, having his meal decided for him like this.

"Oh, uh. These are all for me," Johnny explains, having the decency to look a little embarrassed. He gestures across his broad chest. "Takes a lot to keep this machine running. Sexy needs fuel."

Yoonoh gives him a withering look, and he grins disarmingly in response. "What? I thought you liked my muscles."

"There's rice in the rice cooker," she informs him flatly, before going back to scrolling through her phone.

Taeyong basks in the domesticity of it all, closing his eyes and letting out a long exhale. He's used to a bowl of rice in the mornings, some kimchi or fish eggs thrown in for flavour, eaten while leaned against the sink in his kitchenette. It seems sad when placed into contrast with Yoonoh's spacious kitchen, flooded with natural light and fancy breakfast options.

He's calling a realtor tomorrow.

When Johnny places two bowls of cereal and a carton of milk in front of them, Yoonoh gets up to grab another bowl. She pours milk into it and places it down on the floor, along with one of the bowls of cereal.

"Kitten," she calls out gently, "come have your breakfast."

Taeyong gapes for a second, feeling his cheeks heat up. She's never made him eat on the floor before, and although he instantly feels attracted to the idea, he feels shy over doing it in front of Johnny.

Which is probably her intention. Most of his training centers around unlearning shame.

He gets up and she slides the bathrobe from his shoulders, leaving him naked. "Don't speak. Don't use your hands," she says into his ear, and then places a hand on his shoulder, guiding him down on all fours.

Johnny is busy enough frying up his eggs that he doesn't notice Taeyong down on the floor until he's ready to eat and can't find him at the table.

"Whatcha doing there, buddy?" he asks, while opening up the rice cooker to scoop out some rice.

"Having his breakfast," Yoonoh replies fondly.

Johnny pauses for a beat, and then continues scooping, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Never a dull moment with you two."

It's awkward, trying to drink and eat using just his mouth. He tries licking the milk's surface, which does almost nothing, his smooth human tongue not picking up much liquid. Then he tries sticking his lips in and slurping, which works briefly, until the milk's level gets too low in the bowl and his pursed lips can't reach anymore. The cereal goes much smoother in comparison, the flakes sticking to his tongue and travelling into his mouth easily. He crunches them in between his teeth happily, satisfied over his success.

When he's had his fill and looks up, he sees Yoonoh and Johnny have long since finished their breakfasts. Yoonoh is watching him, her chin resting in her hand and her expression enthralled, but Johnny only has eyes for her, appearing equally taken with the view. Taeyong smiles at her, sitting back on his haunches and patting his stomach.

"Is my pretty kitty full?" she asks.

He nods.

"Good boy. Now go to your bed." She snaps her fingers and repeats herself, like she's instructing a pet: "Bed."

He feels a rush of gratitude when she doesn't call him a girl again, the way she had last night. He'd forgotten to ask if it could be something just between the two of them, for now. But either he just got lucky, or she'd guessed correctly.

Taeyong crawls away on all fours, knowing better than to get up. He curls up and listens to Yoonoh and Johnny talking in the next room, the even flow of the conversation occasionally interrupted by a laugh. Eventually he recognises the unmistakable noises of Yoonoh being pleasured, and curls up a little tighter, wishing it could be his mouth on either of them.

\--

They go get Taeyong pierced the very next day, Taeyong's excitement clearly affecting Yoonoh and spurring her on. Her body modification artist laughs when they walk through the door, into his small but extremely neat work studio.

"So, what was so urgent? Can't even recall the last time someone was willing to pay my Sunday rates."

Taeyong comes to a halt just past the doorway, oddly struck by the piercer's beauty. He'd clearly been an attractive man to begin with, but the extensive work he'd had done put him in a different category. The most striking element were his eye whites, because they were no longer white, both of them an alien-looking purple. Taeyong has never seen anything like it, didn't even know it was possible to tattoo your eyes. It actually wasn't possible, was it? Maybe they were just contacts.

"Taemin," Yoonoh says warmly. She toes off her heels in the entryway and walks up to greet him with a hug. Taeyong is one step behind her, after slipping into a pair of the plush guest slippers Taemin has provided. There's a neat little row of them sitting on the edge of the raised step into his home, all of them identical.

The way Taemin hugs Yoonoh betrays their familiarity, his hand finding her waist and staying there as they drift into conversation. He's a little shorter than her, about the same height as Taeyong, but seems completely at ease about it. Taeyong had noticed that men shorter than Yoonoh tended to keep their distance, to try and make the height difference less obvious.

That's probably why Yoonoh likes Johnny, one of the few men in the office who stood taller than her and felt comfortable standing in a slouch when talking to her.

Taeyong isn't listening to their words, instead using the opportunity to observe. He realizes he finds Taemin overwhelming to look at, every part of his appearance so busy with ink and piercings that it lends him an almost otherworldly quality. Taeyong lets his eyes wander towards the rest of the space, trying not to be impolite by staring too hard.

There's a lot of art on the walls: sketches of naked bodies, white chalky lines on black paper, and equally sober abstract pieces. Unsurprisingly, there's also tattoo art. All sorts of styles are covered, but Taeyong feels most drawn to the ones on the furthest wall. They're big and colourful and hopelessly clash with everything else. He pictures himself with a tattoo, wonders where he'd get it on his body and what kind of design he'd end up picking.

"– yong?" Yoonoh asks, her voice filtering through his thoughts.

"Hnm? Sorry, I was daydreaming," he explains. "What did you say?"

Taemin smiles at him, and it's a bright and beautiful smile, accentuated by the piercings going through his bottom lip. Taeyong feels his heart clench and his cheeks heat up in response.

He was going to get pierced — today, right now. He'd never gotten anything pierced before. Was it going to hurt a lot..? He should probably have given that some more thought beforehand, but the majority of his thoughts had been for pleasing Yoonoh. She'd discussed placement and aftercare with him, and repeatedly assured him he could change his mind at any point. But Taeyong didn't want to change his mind, so eager to strengthen the amount of connections between them. Had been thinking about how it would feel, to have this little reminder of ownership in his flesh every hour of the day.

 _Is that bad_ , he thinks to himself. Was it okay for him to just throw himself into a new experience like this? That's what he'd been doing this entire time, really, and he's yet to regret it. Still. Maybe it's something he should ask Yoonoh about at some point.

"We were just discussing payment," Yoonoh informs him. And either because there's something to her tone, or because she's already gotten him so used to relating money to sex, the words immediately turn him on. He squirms a little, nodding to show he heard her.

"You have two options," she says, and now he knows for sure there'd been something in her voice. "Either I just pay Taemin with money, which I'm fine with doing. Or, you use your body to pay him."

Taeyong brings up a hand to cover his mouth, can't stop himself from doing it, a nervous laugh bubbling up from his throat. With Johnny, there had been some preamble, some indication that the encounter was going to be sexual in nature. He'd sought it out on purpose.

Having the tone of this first meeting be changed so suddenly, having Yoonoh expose him like this, it thrills him so much that he can't think of anything at all for a couple of moments, can only endure the heavy throb of desire coursing through him. He's taken aback by the intensity of it. Maybe it's because he was already a little nervous, maybe it's because of the glimmer of arousal he sees mirrored in Taemin's eyes.

She knows him, she sees him. She knows _exactly_ what he wants. He wants to push her to the ground and kiss her breathless, and ride her until his thighs are aching.

Instead he drops his hand and smiles shyly. They're both waiting for him patiently, and he knows he's allowed to choose either option, and it won't be held against him. He feels loved. Safe. "Um. Money? Can you pay with money?"

Yoonoh can't fully hide her surprise, but doesn't hesitate in telling him it's fine. "Yes, of course."

He nods, swallowing nervously. "Thank you."

He can see her thoughts working behind her eyes, and wonders what she's thinking. But he doesn't say anything else, just lets himself be guided towards the padded examination table in the centre of the space. He lifts himself up onto it, legs swinging.

"I'll be going now," Yoonoh informs him, her hand on his thigh. She slides her credit card into the front pocket of his shirt, and gives him a kiss on his forehead. "If you need me, send me a message."

Taeyong nods. She'd told him beforehand Taemin didn't appreciate an audience while he worked, and that he'd have to go through the experience alone. He didn't particularly mind, he actually quite liked doing things by himself. It was just that, lately, he liked being with Yoonoh more.

Taemin has taken a seat on a stool in front of him, legs comfortably spread, his heavily tattooed hands resting on his knees. He's wearing a thin sweater and ripped jeans, traces of ink peeking out anywhere there's exposed skin, and Taeyong can't help but wonder what he looks like without clothes. Was any part of his body free of ink? His eyes linger on Taemin's throat piece, its writing so intricate that he has no hope of deciphering it.

Taemin smiles at him when the door has closed behind Yoonoh. "My throat says 'love me, need me'. So. Both nipples?"

Taeyong nods demurely.

"Alright," Taemin says, reaching out and dragging a plastic drawer cart closer, "feel free to grab a coke from the fridge — it helps, if you're feeling queasy — and then take your shirt off for me. And keep your breathing relaxed." His movements are measured, certain, like he's done this a thousand times before. It grants him an air of professionalism that has Taeyong feeling another pang of attraction, as he starts unbuttoning his shirt. It's oddly sexy to watch this stranger work, to observe the way his wide shoulders move as he's setting up his work station.

Taemin produces a metal tray and places it on top of the drawers, beginning to load it up with various items. Taeyong lets his shirt fall open, taking in a deep breath slowly. Despite the studio being a pleasant temperature, he still feels goosebumps erupting across his chest.

"Take it off entirely," Taemin instructs, taking out a felt tip marker and turning towards Taeyong, rolling his stool a little closer, "I don't want to risk staining it."

Was he going to bleed that much? He dutifully shrugs out of his shirt, and takes in another deep breath, looking right into Taemin's eyes. This close up, Taeyong can tell Taemin is definitely not wearing contacts. The whites of his eyes are a colour in between purple and blue, making the brown of his irises pop. The effect is hard to look away from. "Does the sight of blood make you lightheaded? Do you faint easily?"

"No, and no," Taeyong says quietly.

"Did you drink in the last 24 hours? Are you on blood thinners?"

Taeyong looks off to the side, thinking. "Um, I drank Friday night. So not in the last 24 hours, no. And no, I'm not on any kind of medication."

Taemin nods and places a hand to Taeyong's chest, holding him steady as he places two black dots on either side of his nipple. He repeats the process on the other side, and then rolls back a little bit, inspecting his work from a distance.

"Do you like the placement?" he asks after a couple of moments, looking up into Taeyong's eyes again. It shouldn't be affecting him as much as it does, but there's something about Taemin's gaze that catches him off guard every time. 

He inspects the dots. "Uh. I really couldn't say, to be honest? I don't know anything about piercings." Taemin laughs, and it's an infectious kind of laugh, hoarse and a little high. But that's not the best part. His eyes go into little half-moons and his cheeks suddenly look twice as fat. How could someone so cool and imposing suddenly look that adorable? Taeyong can't help but grin in response, his eyebrows going up as he hides his mouth behind his hand. "Is that bad? Should I have done more research?"

The piercer shakes his head, still smiling. "Nah. I'm used to Yoonoh bringing me virgins. Guess there's little use for me asking if you'd prefer barbells or hoops?"

Taeyong sits up straighter, his focus narrowing. Taemin potentially knew about Yoonoh's other subs! In all this time, she hadn't spilled a single word about them, and he'd never seen any evidence of them around the house. "She brings other customers?"

Taemin shrugs, digging through the top drawer and creating a small but steadily growing pile of clear plastic bags on his tray. "Hm. Customers is not the word I'd use. Yoonoh and I, we look out for one another." He holds up one of the little bags for him. Each bag contains a piece of jewellery, Taeyong realizes, and this bag holds a simple silver hoop. "Do you like this style? Kinda on the chunky side. That's in right now."

The plainness of the design reminds him of the collar, a little frisson of excitement travelling down his spine. "Yeah. That's really pretty," he says a little breathlessly, reaching out to touch it. Taemin drops the bag into his outstretched hand. Despite being small, the ring has a nice heft to it — nothing like the inexpensive earrings he used to wear during his university years.

"These would look nice on you, I think. And I think they're the right size for you — I'll hold it up to your nipple in a second and we'll know for sure."

He rifles through the drawer again, until he's found a match for the ring already in Taeyong's hand. He holds them up to Taeyong's nipples, squinting at them. "Yeah. They're right."

Things go surprisingly quickly after that. Taemin dons surgical gloves, each side gets disinfected, and then Taemin decidedly pushes a needle through the first nipple while telling Taeyong to breathe out slowly. There's a bit of tube attached at the end, which gets pulled through and snipped. He uses the tube to get the jewellery in, and then carefully removes the tube.

Taeyong watches the whole thing with pure fascination. The actual needle through his nipple feels sharp and painful, and getting the tube tugged through is unpleasant. But after that a dull throb settles in, one that matches the one in his groin. It feels good. There's almost no bleeding, but Taemin still disinfects thoroughly and covers the site with a bit of gauze and surgical tape.

He's biting his bottom lip when Taemin does his other nipple, the experience heightened because he knows what to expect now. The second piercing bleeds a lot more in comparison, a little rivulet of blood making its way down his stomach before Taemin catches it with gauze, cleaning him up with unhurried motions.

Taeyong shivers, and Taemin looks up at him from underneath his brows. "Doing okay still?"

"Yeah. Just. It feels good."

Taemin's hand stills, and he smirks. "Oh?"

Taeyong flushes over his own admission, looking away to the side. Taemin doesn't press him though, finishing up his work on the second nipple in silence.

"Penis too?" he asks then, and it's a neutral question. He's working and wants to know if more work needs to be performed. But all Taeyong can think about is Yoonoh telling him it would be the perfect piercing for him because he's never touched there, and it makes him squirm and grow even harder in his slacks. It's that his pants are so loose, otherwise his erection would be impossible to miss at this point.

"Uhh. Yeah, but–"

"Don't worry," Taemin says reassuringly, like he's had to give this piece of info a hundred times before, "I pierce it while its flaccid."

"Actually," Taeyong says quietly, "it's kinda. The opposite problem."

Taemin laughs softly in response. It's nothing like the hoarse little laugh from before. It's further back in his throat this time, and darker somehow. It could be interpreted as mocking, but something in the pit of his stomach lurches with desire.

Taeyong swallows nervously, and then reaches out for Taemin's hand and places it on his thigh. There's a moment where nothing happens, and then Taemin gives his leg a gentle squeeze.

"You're sure?" he asks, his thumb gently brushing the fabric of Taeyong's slacks. "This isn't what you discussed with Yoonoh."

Maybe Taemin wouldn't like his plan. He breathes in deep to gather his courage, but his voice is a bit uneven when he speaks: "I do want to pay you with my body. I thought it could be a nice surprise for Yoonoh, since she's been surprising me a lot lately."

"I see," Taemin hums, "and she won't mind her boyfriend lying to her?"

"I'm not her boyfriend," Taeyong corrects him.

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah," Taeyong breathes out, looking down at where Taemin is still gently kneading his thigh. "She says she hates surprises but then always loves when I actually bring her one."

"I see." Taemin unzips his slacks slowly, beginning to reach a hand inside.

Taeyong stops him, gripping his wrist. "No, you shouldn't touch my– Anywhere else is fine, just not–"

Taemin is already nodding like he gets it, and if he's known Yoonoh for a while, maybe he truly does get it. "Let's just take these off, then."

He helps him get undressed while staying very close, allowing Taeyong to lean on his shoulders so he can lift his hips, and his pants and underwear can be tugged down. Taemin shucks them off all the way, and conspicuously, puts one sock that got tugged off back on. Taeyong can't recall ever being naked with just his socks remaining. It makes him feel cute.

"Is it that you like socks, or dislike feet?"

"Like socks," Taemin informs him, stepping back in between Taeyong's legs. His eyes are trained on Taeyong's lips. "Are kisses okay?"

Taeyong nods eagerly. "Anything is okay."

Taemin huffs out a soft breath, shaking his head. "Allowing people to do anything isn't good, it's a sign of poor boundaries. You should tell me if you don't like it."

Taeyong isn't sure how to explain that he likes everything. Or had liked everything, so far. Maybe he was a little bored sometimes, like when Yoonoh just wanted to kiss the arch of his foot for half an hour. Or when Johnny wanted to jack off across his face, and it took forever for him to come and he'd just stand there grunting with his head thrown back, and all Taeyong could do was sit there and watch Johnny's balls.

But the undercurrent would always be a sense of bliss. An uncomplicated happiness stemming from the fact that he was putting his body to use and bringing others pleasure with it, and didn't have to be anything beyond that, in that moment.

He's kissed then, and the thoughts fly from his mind. Taemin is a really, _really_ good kisser, clearly has a love for it. His many piercings are pleasant against Taeyong's lips, surprisingly warm and unobtrusive. But just having them there is sexy, somehow. And Taeyong learns Taemin has a split tongue, something he's never encountered until this very moment, but falls in like with. Each half is pierced, the little balls clicking together as Taemin slides under and over Taeyong's tongue, squeezing him and being playful. All Taeyong can think of is how it would feel on his dick, even though he knows it'll never happen.

He spreads his legs further when prompted by a light touch, pulling Taemin flush with his socked feet by pressing them into the back of his legs. He's still wearing the surgical gloves, and the texture of them against his skin is oddly arousing. Taeyong feels himself heating up past the point of embarrassment, clinging to Taemin and quietly whining for more kisses, more touch. He inhales sharply when he feels Taemin's erection against him, grinding against it. "Hnn," he voices, a sound of frustration, letting his forehead drop against Taemin's shoulder.

"Shh, don't worry, I'll give it to you," Taemin murmurs, that little smile playing around his lips again. "Let's get you ready first, though. Lean back for me."

Taeyong nods as he leans back, watching Taemin grab lube from his drawers.

"Why do you have lube in there?"

Taemin taps his earlobes, where identical tunnel earrings sit — Taeyong doesn't know the proper name for them. He kind of wants to poke his finger through one. "Need it when clients want to go up a size."

He squeezes out a dollop onto two of his fingers, setting the bottle aside. He slides them home with little fuss. Taeyong moans and shivers, the intrusion utterly familiar at this point, but made better by the excitement of it being someone new.

"Hmm," Taemin hums interestedly, watching where his fingers are disappearing into Taeyong, "did she already fuck you today?"

Taeyong nods, only a little embarrassed that Taemin can tell. It had been more than he could take: the long talk about him getting pierced, the knowledge of the collar being in her apartment somewhere. He'd begged her, and she'd been rough.

"She did a good job... it's so cute... so red and puffy," Taemin observes as he works his fingers in deeper, and Taeyong whines, bucking his hips to meet him halfway. He wants it hard, fast, just like before.

But Taemin sticks to his own pace, ignoring Taeyong's many attempts to get him to speed up. He captures Taeyong's lips in another kiss as he works him open on his fingers, which helps him calm down a bit.

"Have you been fisted before?" Taemin asks after some time, when he's got four fingers firmly inside his hole. Taeyong shakes his head, eyes widening. The piercer laughs, pecking the anxious press of Taeyong's lips. "Don't worry, we don't have to do that. Just wondering."

He steps back at that, taking off the gloves and discarding them in a pedal bin next to the table. Taeyong watches as he retrieves a condom from his wallet, his mouth watering when Taemin takes himself out of his jeans. He has a pretty dick, slender and a little curved. It's only slightly bigger than Taeyong's, but a shade darker.

What he likes most about it is the piercings, just as plentiful and intricate as the ones on Taemin's face, a whole row of them going down the underside. Taeyong wants to nuzzle and kiss them, get to know each one intimately.

But Taemin is already sliding on the condom, clearly practised in getting past the many little metal balls without issue. He steps close again, and for a moment, just looks into Taeyong's eyes. His own crinkle in an eye smile, and Taeyong's heart skips a beat.

"Still want to?"

Taeyong nods eagerly, drawing Taemin's body close to him. Taemin buries a hand in the back of Taeyong's hair, tugging in a way so reminiscent of Johnny — but this isn't Johnny, and he feels an unexpected pang of regret that his former boss won't be the only man he's ever known anymore. But it's not as if Johnny would actually care — he was only in it for Yoonoh, after all.

A kiss is pressed to his throat as he's pushed into, and his responding moan is uninhibited. The sex is as slow as the preparation had been, gentle kisses left on the expanse of Taeyong's throat as he's fucked languidly.

"A little faster? Please," Taeyong groans, nuzzling Taemin's shoulder.

"No," Taemin says simply, using his grip on Taeyong's hair to angle his head for another kiss. It's just as slow as the pace of his hips, their kisses soft and sticky almost, their lips seemingly unwilling to part for the briefest of moments.

Taeyong has been fucked a lot recently, but what Taemin is doing to him can't reasonably be called that. His touches are too soft. It's lovemaking, plain and simple, and Taeyong is starkly reminded of when Yoonoh had been in that weird mood and had allowed Taeyong to fuck her.

"Please," Taeyong repeats, wanting the attention to turn harsh so he can allow his thoughts to bleed from his mind. Taemin shakes his head and shushes him with another kiss, and Taeyong moans into it.

Taemin pushes him back a little then, directing him to keep himself up on a hand leaned behind him and hiking up one of Taeyong's legs. Taeyong understands his goal when Taemin starts fucking him more shallowly, his movements muted. He helps out, leaning back and tilting his hips just that little bit more. His mouth falls open when Taemin finds his prostate, brow furrowing.

"Oh," he says lamely, "oh, _fuck_."

Taemin is patient. He's playing Taeyong's body like an instrument, his arresting eyes fixed on Taeyong's face as he experiments with the angle, the speed, adjusting depending on the expressions and sounds he gets in response. They settle into a rhythm that has Taeyong feeling like he might lose his mind, his jaw slack and his breathing erratic as he stares at the man in front of him. He reaches out to rest his hand against Taemin's cheek, his throat, marvelling at the contrast between his own pale skin and Taemin's inked one. Taemin is speeding up, in infinitesimal increments, the build-up so slow it's bordering on maddening.

Taeyong can feel his orgasm building up ever so slowly, remaining right below the surface, just, _just_ out of his reach. He's moaning at a higher pitch than usual, and he's thinking of nothing at all.

"Come on, come on," Taemin cajoles him in a sweet whisper, "let go for me."

Taeyong stops breathing entirely, eyebrows shooting up, an unspoken plea in his eyes. It feels like an eternity passes, his cock twitching and his balls drawing up higher, and then he's coming in hot spurts, all across the bottom of Taemin's pretty sweater.

Tears spring to his eyes, a long, guttural moan spilling past his lips; what feels like weeks of build-up releasing from his tightly wound frame. Taemin grabs him and kisses him, and Taeyong can't do anything but cling to him as his body goes through the aftershocks, each one just as delicious as the last, until finally the ribbons of come shooting from the tip of his dick die down, the final one dribbling out and clinging to his slit. He's never come this hard or this long, and he can't fully process how good he feels in this moment. Taemin is still fucking into him, but it's the shallowest it's been so far, barely any movement or penetration at all. He lets their tongues slide against one another, and Taeyong shudders at the feeling of Taemin's tongue piercings, his sensitive state causing them to feel even better.

"Come," he begs, bunching up Taemin's sweater in his fists. "I want to make you come."

"Not too sensitive?" Taemin asks, allowing himself to sink in all the way.

Taeyong keens, his nerve endings burning in protest. It's way too much, it's painful. It feels heavenly. "Hurts, hurts so good," he gasps into Taemin's mouth, the tears that had been threatening to spill finally streaking down his cheeks. "Please, harder."

"Yeah?" Taemin asks with a smile, and finally, relents. He completely abandons the controlled pace he's maintained until now, and Taeyong could cry with how happy he feels in this moment — no, he _is_ crying.

Taemin speeds up faster this time, quickly working himself up to fucking into Taeyong as hard as he can, hips slamming into his thighs. His fucks him until he has him outright sobbing, every inch of Taeyong's skin feeling too hot and too tight.

His dick has gone soft, and yet inexplicably, it feels like he's barrelling towards another orgasm. His noises go higher, face tight with confusion. He's never come this fast twice in a row, his refractory period keeping him from it, but the sensation is undeniable.

"Oh– I'm, think I'm gonna–" he utters in a small, pinched voice, and the responding grin from Taemin is bordering on wolfish.

"Do it," he says, and Taeyong does, silent tears falling through all of it. There's no come this time, but he feels the orgasm down to his toes, a full-body shudder that crashes into him like a wave and robs him of sight and hearing for a long moment.

Taemin follows him soon after, and stills, his chest working rapidly as he catches his breath. It's a relief, because Taeyong doesn't think he can take any more at this point. He slumps forward against Taemin's chest, holding on to him as he sniffles pitifully. Taemin's hand comes up to pet the back of his head, his touch gentle again.

"Okay?" he asks.

Taeyong shakes his head, tries to speak but finds that he can't. He's so overwhelmed. Taemin pulls out, and helps Taeyong off the table after he's trashed the condom and has tucked his dick back inside his jeans.

Taeyong discovers his legs will no longer carry his weight, his knees buckling when he gets onto his feet. Taemin catches him with a shoulder shoved into Taeyong's armpit, muttering _woah, woah, easy_ and _I got you_ as he half-drags, half-carries Taeyong to a couch in the corner of his studio.

Taeyong curls up on the couch, and his crying only gains in energy, breathless sobs racking through him. Taemin shoves himself behind him, tugging at Taeyong until he's sat securely in his lap, and then just holds him. Taeyong hides his face in the crook of Taemin's neck, and it takes him while to calm down, until he's hiccuping and breathing snottily.

"Not good?" Taemin asks after a while, sounding a bit insecure. Taeyong shakes his head frantically, feeling a burst of fear blooming in his chest.

"S-so good!" he corrects instantly, lifting his head to look at Taemin with wide eyes. "Thank you, loved it so much."

Taemin smiles, and it's that same radiant smile from before, that makes his cheeks look impossibly round. Taeyong feels like he can't breathe, and it's not just because his nose is clogged. He wants to kiss him again, but instead he just says: "You're beautiful."

Taemin laughs at that, rubbing away some of the tears on Taeyong's cheeks. "Yeah? So are you."

Taeyong joins in with his laughing, smiling through the tears. The tight feeling in his chest is flooding out of him, leaving emptiness and clarity. He feels kind of giddy, actually. "But I'm all snotty now."

Taemin nods eagerly, kissing him right on his nose to show he doesn't care. "I like it. It's cute. And you come like a girl." Another kiss. "So fucking cute."

"It was my first time," Taeyong announces proudly. He can't wait to tell Yoonoh, can't wait to find out just how thrilled she'll be over finally reaching one of their biggest goals for him.

Taemin groans in appreciation, giving him yet another kiss. "Jesus Christ, you're adorable. Who do I kill to have you hanging off my dick every day, hm?"

"Yoonoh rents me out," Taeyong informs him keenly. He can't imagine Taemin paying for him the way Johnny does, but then, he wouldn't have imagined Johnny doing it either. So who knows?

Taemin raises an eyebrow at him, something indefinable glinting in his eyes. "Is that so."

Taeyong blushes, shyness catching up him when he realizes he's offering himself up like an object, to a guy he's known for all of two hours. He takes a deep breath, reminding himself that he has nothing to feel embarrassed over. His body _is_ for sale, and that's a good thing. It's what Yoonoh wants, and more than anything, Taeyong wants to make her happy.

"What are your rates?"

Taeyong blinks. "No clue, actually."

"Uh. Alright, then, what percentage does Yoonoh give you?"

Taeyong shrugs his shoulders to show he doesn't know that either. 

Taemin looks at him in disbelief. "You're kidding me."

"But, um. Would you even want something like that?" Taeyong asks, pushing through his self-consciousness.

"Yes," Taemin says plainly. "I've wanted you since I saw your video. I'll pay for a repeat, why not."

"What vid– oh." Taeyong squirms a little, fighting the urge to cross his legs. He knows people have been watching it, because once in a while, someone will leave him a tip and that money appears in his account, minus the site's cut. He just didn't know Yoonoh had revealed their identities to anyone. "I didn't know she told people about it. I mean I know it's up for anyone to watch, but I didn't know she told anyone it's us."

"Just me," Taemin says reassuringly. He lets his hand drift in between Taeyong's legs, gently brushing the most delicate inner part of his thigh. "Are you upset she told me?"

Taeyong stares at him, studying Taemin's odd eyes as he mulls it over. His first instinct is to lie, because the truth is embarrassing. But he finds he doesn't want to. "No. I like that she's telling people."

"Yeah?" Taemin asks quietly, his fingers slowly travelling higher. "She did say you were a budding exhibitionist."

Taeyong is having an increasingly hard time focusing, led to distraction by the relatively innocent sensation of Taemin's fingertips caressing his skin. "She talks about me?" The words come out weird; his mouth has gone dry. What is it about this dude, that he feels so affected? It's just some guy, like Johnny is just some guy.

"Hmm-m. Talks about you a lot, lately. What kind of things you like. Pain. Humiliation."

"She's never mentioned you," Taeyong remarks. As he's saying it, he realizes he sounds rude. But that's not how he means it. Taemin seems close to Yoonoh, closer than anyone else he's met. And yet, until yesterday, Taeyong didn't know he existed.

"That's Yoonoh for you; loves keeping shit close to the chest. Maybe a little too close sometimes. But she's good people." He gives Taeyong's thigh a harsh little flick, and Taeyong sits up straighter. "Enough about her, though. If you can't tell me your price, can you at least tell me what's being offered?"

Taeyong blinks, doing his best to catch up. His head feels pleasantly empty, and what he really wants is to be held some more.

_You should ask for what you need._

He's been practising with Yoonoh's help, but she's not here right now, and all he can really think about is how good Taemin smells. Not like an expensive cologne, the way Johnny does. Just soap. Or maybe it's a scented hand sanitizer. He saw a bottle of it in one of the drawers. "Uh. My holes. I have one other client, he usually just wants blowjobs... but he fucked me, the other day. And my dick can't be touched, just like today."

"Then how was I supposed to give you your Prince Albert?" Taeyong is about to form a reply, but Taemin holds up his hand, a smile playing around his lips. "I'm just teasing, I know you meant sexually. Do you still want that piercing, though? We could do it now, while you're soft."

Taeyong feels dread at the thought of being touched again, still so sensitive, but it's overshadowed by the thought of Yoonoh's reaction. Piercing his cock had been her strongest wish, and he wants to fulfill it. "Yeah, okay," he says quietly.

"You're sure? You don't have to get them all in one day, we can–"

"I'm sure," Taeyong interrupts him.

Taemin hums. "Get back on the table for me, then. And spread your legs."

Taeyong obeys, enjoying the clear directions he's getting. For a brief moment he's worried he's going to faceplant on his way over, but his legs have regained function, although he's still uncertain on his feet. He's literally been fucked so good it's affecting his ability to walk, the thought causing him to flush.

The process of piercing his dick is nearly identical to his nipples, except it's ten times as uncomfortable when the needle and tubing is pushed through. Taeyong yelps instead of breathing through it like he's told, going white in the face at the sight of Taemin working on him. He feels dizzy.

"Looking kinda pale there," Taemin observes, frowning at the sight of Taeyong's pallor. He guides him to lie down, hand pressed firmly to his shoulder. "Deep breaths. Can you do that? You might pass out for a second, but I've got you."

Taeyong takes a deep breath, fighting down a wave of nausea.

"First ones were so easy," he says in his own defence, slinging an arm over his eyes.

"A body can only take so much," Taemin explains. "I'm sorry, I should've refused you. I figured, since you're good with pain, it would be fine. Miscalculation on my part."

Taeyong nods, and falls silent, focusing on keeping his breathing even. He starts feeling better straight away. "Can you still finish up the piercing?" he asks, hopeful. "Yoonoh will love it so much."

There's a little huff when Taemin laughs on an exhale, a warm hand threading through his hair. "Hmm. Let's grab you a coke, first."

After a couple of fizzy sips that make the inside of Taeyong's nose sting, Taemin finishes his work without further incident and then insists he lay down on the couch for another couple minutes.

"I really feel fine now, though." He has his chin tucked to his chest, marvelling at his newly pierced dick, the sight both strange and thrilling. Another closed hoop, to match the ones in his nipples. Taemin hasn't bandaged it up yet, per Taeyong's request — he wants to look at it some more. He's taking pictures, too.

"Uhuh," Taemin says, sounding wholly unconvinced. He's sat on the far end of the couch, knees spread, tapping into his phone. "I'm texting Yoonoh to come pick you up, just in case."

Taeyong lets his head fall back, sighing excitedly at the thought of telling her everything.

"You should add me on Kakao," he tells Taemin, spelling out his ID. Taemin smirks, continuing his rapid tapping into his phone.

Taeyong's phone buzzes in his hand, a message from an unknown contact. He swipes the notification down eagerly, but the message is not from the piercer.

**18:46, from whatsuh**  
_hey, u up for another dick appointment tonite? miss ur peach already_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to nappeunjxt 🥺 I got an unkind DM abt this story and wasn't sure if I wanted to continue it, and she reminded me to focus on all feedback instead of just negative feedback. So have the longest chapter yet lol
> 
> I've had purple eyeballs tattoo artist Taemin bouncing around in my head for a while now, I'm thrilled he's finally out there!! Now u know why that superm tag has been there all this time 🙈 
> 
> PSA tho: there is no long-term research on the safety of an eyeball tattoo (because they haven't been around that long). Your eyes are fragile and irreplaceable. If this tattoo goes wrong, either in the short or long term, you will go blind. It's a risky mod and I do not recommend it.
> 
> [come yell w me on twit](https://mobile.twitter.com/linnhuh)


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